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Poem

The old ones have all gone now
up those Golden Stairs.
There's hay stacked for the horses in the barn.
They're grubbing up potatoes
and stacking corn stalks high
'cause Bertha's coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.

Willie is laughing and telling Indian tales
while Aunt Sarah is baking
biscuits on her wooden stove.
Pap and Mammy are dancing
through the clouds and all around
'cause Bertha's coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.

God's here with them tasting Minnie's apple pies;
Bill Cornett and Dorothy are fishing over stars;
and Preston's playing cards
with Lish, Ben and Maurice,
'cause Bertha's coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.

Zora is now kissing Ben gently on the cheek
while Paul is making a barbecue.
Cousin Lucille, Sara and Anna Lee
are swinging from the moon,
'cause Bertha's coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.

Janet Marie Bingham


This poem is about my ancestor's that have died and gone to Heaven.
The last person was Bertha Baldwin.  They all were country people
who went through the Great Depression on the farm except  for Sara and Anna Lee who were in the next generations. I am the daughter of Zora and Ben Bingham.  Soon I will be going up those Golden Stairs too.  I'm 75 right now. May God bless all of you who lived through the Great Depression and made it to raise your families. May God bless you with peace and hope
for a better world.

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