Best West Virginia Poems
Wild rugged den of Hatfield and McCoy,
Entered the Union with birth pangs of war.
Sweet meadows punctuate inked river beds,
Trapped in mountains black wealth of coal.
Volunteers--first to send her sons to serve.
In hidden glens Bigfoot and Mothman roam.
Raging rivers white water rafters ride;
Green valleys house her ancient Celtic stock.
Indians roamed, leaving mystic burial mounds;
Night music choir of frog and whip-poor-will.
In forests treasure of ginseng and yellow root;
Apples--green golden fruit crisped in summer dews.
Mysterious mountain culture all her own,
Infused into her native citizens alone.
© Faye Lanham Gibson, 4-15-2014
Bees love the spring bud
Butterflies, too, come in to land
Rhododendron blooms
majestic mountains
fog hovering in the morn
unsullied waters
hasten to the waterfall
filling the cold deep basin
My home, the land of the rolling hills.
Where the trees embrace in mutual respect.
Who can truly understand the mystery of the hills without living among them?
I have learned much from the flowing waters.
I have spoken with the spirits of the earth.
I have discovered it's fiery soul.
I have sung with the whispering winds.
They have told me the same thing.
"I am STRONG,"
"I am POWERFUL,"
"I AM WEST VIRGINIA!"
my home on a hill
papa's will,come carry me
he shot a pass,turkey
They call my home the mountain state
Though, also has many large hills.
Crazy curves that swerve sway, around.
Slipping sides of the roads do show.
.
These may be negatives to some.
However, deliver such sights
The glorious colors that flaunt,
During all the seasons that live.
Mountains stand tall over the hills.
Foliage of every hue,
Wooded centers flow all over.
Nature abounds gloriously.
West Virginia hills majestic.
Almost Heaven, they say, so free.
As kids growing up in the hills of West Virginia,
We were poor, but no one was any better off.
Halloween was a time we looked forward to,
But there was no money for the store-bought stuff.
Costumes and treats were always homemade
And so, we would scrounge around for things
Old clothes, cardboard boxes, and burlap sacks
From which we became scarecrows and clowns.
Late October weather was generally miserably cold,
Likely a mixture of rain and sleet or snow.
We walked miles for apples, a piece of candy,
Sometimes, a piece of fudge, or a popcorn ball.
Then, we trudged home, often soaking wet,
Examining loot the religious older folks called
“ill-gotten gain,” sharing the evening adventures.
We did not have to worry about being kidnapped,
Or molested, or having a razor blade in our treats.
We knew our neighbors well; they knew us, too,
So, for good reason, we dared not play nasty tricks
Because the new party line would be a-buzzing,
There were never any secrets in the backcountry!
[Dressing Up for Halloween]
Written September 7, 2022
Submitted to "Fall Flavors" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Around twilight driving home from the casino
we both saw it;
it was silhouetted as it crossed the full moon.
legend has it that the Moth Man has retired,
perhaps he flew too near
to a street lamp and singed his wings?
That night while still driving
we saw the fabled Goony bird.
The Cherokee call it the Thunder Bird,
but I thought it was a pterodactyl.
Later, at the hotel our Beagle
kept running to the window and barking.
It was dark and the town lights were across the river.
We could see little, but both sensed
large leathery wings circling above us.
Maybe that night it settled on the hotel roof,
The Moth Man who cannot now fly
maybe took the elevator
and joined the great winged beast there.
I wonder if they discussed we strange crypto beasts
as we lay dreaming of yeti’s and zombies
playing the slots?
I was sent to the store by my wife.
This was a part of my new life.
This little shopping trip for my wife,
Did not really cause me much strife,
If some new, then laughter would be rife.
Chocolate bars bought, to be cut with a knife.
Female items, I walked whistling like a fife.
Strangest trip to Save a Lot, I ever made in life.
I stand on the edge of a spectacular canyon
A river in the distance far, far below
With mountains rising above each side
Reflecting in the rushing tide, as though
One might miss the verdant foliage crests.
New River Gorge they call this place
A flora and fauna national preserve
Nature's playground at its absolute finest.
Far below in the foamy surging rapids
Are braver people, reader, than I am
Piloting canoes and paddling furiously
Taking their river ride quite, quite seriously.
One visit to New River is sure to win ‘ya
To wild and wonderful West Virginia.
Homeward bound in the evenings, weary miners cross the ridge
Returning from the deep mines black as the coal they uncover
Not far from the grandeur of the New River National Gorge Bridge
Homeward bound in the evenings, weary miners cross the ridge
Generations of these men have considered it a privilege
To dig deep into the latest rich seams of coal they discover
Homeward bound in the evenings, weary miners cross the ridge
Returning from the deep mines black as the coal they uncover.
written May 20, 2021
I stand on the edge of a spectacular canyon
A river in the distance far, far below
With mountains rising above each side
Reflecting in the rushing tide, as though
One might miss the verdant foliage crests.
New River Gorge they call this place
A flora and fauna national preserve
Nature's playground at its absolute finest.
Far below in the foamy surging rapids
Are braver people, reader, than I am
Piloting canoes and paddling furiously
Taking their river ride quite, quite seriously.
One visit to New River is sure to win ‘ya
To wild and wonderful West Virginia.
Reposted on Poetry Soup
October 13, 2022
In the heart of Appalachia
are a people
Stigmatized and down trodden
honestly forgotten
they will invite you over for Sunday dinner
Their hospitality unrivaled
they will tell you this history of their people
From the great rivalries to its famous people
They take pride in the work they do
cause their momma's taught them so
and their papas would make it so
Looking for black gold deep within the earth
to make rich men richer
just so bread can be put upon the table
Thats how its remembered
now days people will say
that the younger generations have grown soft; muscles weak
not worked hard enough
that family values no longer mean a thing
Yet in turn its the rotten world poisoning these men and women causing them a pain unlike any other
the worlds' resounding silence in our suffering
that makes parents tell their children they'll amount to nothing
As our mines run dry and forests cut thin.
Empty promises are made by even richer men promoting to bring back
jobs from the dead to save our state to make us all rich
but too little to late
no ones coming to save our state
Were in a state of decay slowly rotting from the inside out
In the heart of Appalachia
If you follow an oxycontin mule into the woods
it may lead you nowhere,
and that is where you may stumble upon
a flying beast so rare
that it exists only on the edge of itself.
The Cherokee name them Thunder Birds,
pterodactyls for sure,
their large leathery hides loop and swoop.
Rarely are they found nesting,
but are said to be everlasting.
O West Virginia, land of the hoped for
and the hopeless,
we honor your ginseng farms,
your fields of pot, but forget you not
the beasts that seek your moonshine
by the light of ancient eyes,
they often surprise us –
quite a lot actually.
An exceptional young man from the Old Dominion
Was in love with his most overrated opinion
He spouted the verse and chapter
But collapsed shortly thereafter
Because he met up with a savvy West Virginian.
written August 11, 2021