A Missouri Heaven

When the full moon rises, and the stars start to glow. Down to that old creek bank, is where I like to go. A few leaves still hanging, shaking in the breeze. Holding on for dear life to them persimmon trees. Out across the gully, other side of the bridge. Coon hounds hot on a trail, just over the next ridge. Surrounded by nature, I am filled with delight. Deep in these Ozark woods, on moonlit winter nights. A cool wind a blowing, winter’s flurries around. The only sound to hear, the bawling of a hound. Down to that old creek bank, Is where I like to go. When the full moon rises, and the stars start to glow.