Appalachian Poems - Poems about Appalachian

I don’t feel strong – my soul, it grieves I don’t feel wise – my spirit sighs, then weeps I don’t feel sure – my heart cries out I don’t feel resilient – my life is but a breath… Once in a while, I remember how she screamed, The storm of the century – the storm Who scattered the trees, tore...

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muddy waters recede give up beloved dead recovered appalachian songs eternal...

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I wanted to find myself, so I got lost in the woods, Turns out life’s easier without all the shoulds. The rhythm of steps was a meditation Twelve hours a day in God’s lovely creation. Even when I was tired, wet, hungry and cold I didn't get jaded; nature didn't get old In the south,...

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City born Northerners, Kiss the last rays of sunlight, With pampered lips While those of us born and raised In the south, Appalachian – We dust off the melting sun With a laugh that sheds the heat From our pores and restores our Hope for the star strewn silhouette, Breaking through the endlessness Calm and strong, worrying, With the distance between Morning and...

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You were born here, Blue Ridge foothills, spirits of Cherokee in Appalachia's olden heart and veins. Scots-Irish influence of beloved bluegrass, moonshine of the drinking kind. Your parents weren't the responsible type, as you and your three sisters spent your childhoods in foster care and were once left with your mother's cruel friend for two years, you went through so much. Your single grandmother Robbie did the best she...

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I came down from the mountain today and I couldn’t figure out who I was. I thought maybe I was a shadow but that requires something to block the light. I thought I was a ghost but that Implies there was once something there. Maybe a shell. Old and forgotten where someone use to live....

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They’ve always been there, unaware When I felt lonely, lost, longing For the presence of the light’s caress, Softly unfolding beyond the azure Skies, whispering joy over my soul, into Shimmering that twinkles, above In the skies and below, in my eyes They’ve always known me, as a child Silent and the only one belonging Beneath their gaze, in the warm haze Tenderly blowing winds...

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Hill country snow is thawing The wind is a Spring scented ripple - coltish Nature for a little while asks: "come and play" Of course you smile Long years are released from that tightly packed jail you had been carrying along for so long Now the deer come one then too many to count as they thread through the tree-line now they are nibbling at your presence here their large brown eyes feed...

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Mornings, light and smiling Coffee brewing, black Meat frying in a cast iron skillet Grease, flour and milk, stirred together Gravy poured over steaming biscuits Granny’s breakfast – typically Grown to life from a wood cookstove Noon, gentle sunshine Picking cornfield beans, breaking The beans and then washing them Placing them into a vessel, a pot Seasoned with pork - fatback Cooking over the sweaty heat Of...

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Long ago, formed by His hand Courageous and bold Like the oak and the elm Whispering truths Silencing every doubt They call to the spirit With tenderness, inspiring A fire that brings passion Alive, wild and warm, Soothing the spirit and Coloring the will in brilliant hues Of God breathed guidance Old as time, they seem so wise Haggard and worn, their charm Is the laughing dreams That...

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showers of castanets on a tin roof a stop-over for the night on the longest hike a bushel of owls in each drip of rain aftershocks of mice nibbling through the wires of a sleepless mind listening through ear shaped microphones pigeons scrabble overhead ...

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Take that road down yonder, she said Toward the signpost that reads, lickskillet Turn right up thar and then left after that To a highfulootin road that’s paved in black After you see the red store building by the crik Turn to your right and you’ll be at Old Jack’s street From there you go over the mountain a ways And keep...

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Every morning at close to four She made the coffee, percolated Poured it into cups with saucers And they each would have a cup Pouring the potent black liquid Into the saucers before drinking The cooling solution from them This was only one more glimpse Into the heart of Appalachian living A day by day extravaganza of insights Carried down from the Irish ancestors Who’d come...

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Sawing logs, one after another Into two feet lengths Just for the specific purpose Of standing them up on the ground Awaiting the iron axe That will create a comforting Roaring fire in the hearth Come this winter’s cold Canning fruits and vegetables To store on the shelves Awaiting the moment in time When they’ll be lifted out And opened slowly, carefully With appreciation for the color The scent...

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I have a passion to hold a lamp aloft, to capture one acre of starshine before the sun writes a new dawn. Rusting Chevys bloom in the half-light. Nightjars depart on shadow wings. Shimmering’s walk toward my window on silver slippers. A native mildness calls me out to the green hollows where poppies cling to secrets. I’ve a yen to lean like a greening barn that’s...

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