Just Down the Road
The boy I was so many years ago
Loved to visit his grandpa
Who lived in the best of places
This city dweller could imagine so
Those Ozark Mountains were adventure to me
I the boy and trusted BB gun in tow
Did explore the river bottom and climb tall trees
To breath the mountain's cold air made this boy feel free
The explorer I became for rocks snakes and frogs
To romp after a bee just to see where it would go
Or play in grandpa’s barn while watching my step
Go fishing with grubs taken from under dead logs
The swimming hole was by a low water bridge
Just a quarter a mile at the bottom of the hill
The tall weeping willow which offered its branches
Served the hot summer days as the ideal plunging package
As I recall how that red Arkansan chert path flowed
How this boy’s grandest adventures for nature and beauty were made real
For to walk again the paths of ancient Indians
What grandness grandpa gave me when I traveled just down the road
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