Take me home, where the country roads wind,
Through rugged mountains and skies so kind.
Whispering winds hum Annie’s Song true,
Soft as the dawn in the morning dew.
Sunshine on My Shoulders warms the soul,
A golden touch that makes us whole.
With Calypso we sailed through waters wide,
Drifting where nature and dreams collide.
A Rocky Mountain High in every refrain,
A love for the earth in sun and rain.
Perhaps Love lingers in each tune,
Glowing beneath a harvest moon.
So here’s to the man who gave us his art,
Each lyric a gift, straight from the heart.
John Denver’s spirit still sings on the breeze,
A melody soaring through hills and trees.
Mere words cannot express
The depths of my respect
And how I mourn the fact that he's not here.
His open, honest smile,
His friendly country style,
Of course his voice and music keep him near.
As kids, on Thursday nights,
My dad turned down the lights
And by a roaring fire we'd sing his songs.
I've such dear memories...
We'd sing to his LP's
Until, at last, our bedtimes came along.
Oh, how those songs inspired
And lifted my heart higher
Each time my mundane life would drag me down.
And truly I believe
It cannot be just me
Who wishes that he could still be around.
So, here's to Brother John!
He's never really gone
As long as somewhere someone shares his songs!
He was one of the best
So may his soul be blessed!
His many fans will keep his mem'ry strong.
In the late 60s, I heard the song,
'Ode To Billy Joe' by Bobbie Gentry.
Some time later, I heard the song,
'Take Me Home' by John Denver.
Bobbie Gentry's song reminds me
of my Southern roots not far from
the song's theme location in the
Mississippi Delta.
John Denver's song clearly paints the
picture of a place to which I would like
to return, if only it still existed. The name
lives on, but the people are gone. The fields
of corn and cotton remain but not the homes.
John's tone is magical, and I am mesmerized
by that country road. although my surroundings
were not mountainous but near sea level, John
still takes me home with his matchless lyrics.
It always did seem On the Wings of a Dream
I’d Fly Away with you In My Heart -
through Singing Skies and Dancing Waters,
for Darling, The Music is You,
and The Gift You Are you have been from the start.
My Rhymes and Reasons, my divine Aspenglow,
Somethin’ About You, I can’t let go.
It seems I keep saying Goodbye Again,
watching you Leaving On a Jet Plane.
Then you’re Back Home Again and sweetest songs flow.
You can’t escape me, and I Can’t Escape you.
Poems, Prayers, and Promises prove this is true.
On Shanghai Breezes you Sail Away Home,
and I’ve Never a Doubt that for too long you’ll roam,
for you’ll Take Me to Tomorrow and more Songs Of . . . You.
Clearly in my memory,
a moment of discovery,
in spiritual revery,
and I was not alone.
A kid, when I first heard his sound,
with mountains all around,
it was something new I found,
Country Roads had brought me home.
Two hours each way by bus,
eight hours washing pots, and thus,
life was hard, monotonous,
and the days were long.
I was just eighteen years old.
In school, I should have been enrolled,
but in my head, a voice of gold -
I heard Annie's Song.
Those were many years ago,
and I am moving oh so slow.
I don't have too much to show.
My life is almost done.
Too early, you said your goodbyes,
but you help me see it rise,
for my shoulders and my eyes,
the shining of the sun.
John Denver was a fine country singer,
Rocky Mountain High immortalized him,
guitar strummed, sleight of hands, picked by finger,
skilled writer, voice, guitarist, songs, or hymn.
Annie's Song, soft and warmly glorious,
Dreamland Express, Perhaps Love, I'm Sorry,
lips touch and, ears hark tryst, harmonious,
his lyrics live on and tell his story.
John Denver's Christmas songs, his right to fame,
Silver Bells, and the Twelve Days Of Christmas,
The Christmas Song, Oh Holy Night, The Flame,
Blue Christmas, Poems, Prayers, Promises.
Leaving On A Jet Plane, and Love Again,
Take Me Home, Country Roads--flight to Heaven.
This picture is of the Columbine flower by John Denver.
(He was dead long before the shootings at Columbine.)
In my life, I was so blessed to meet you.
You cherished all people, nature, and I think
God designed His glorious sky just for you, too!
Besides your music, I know you cared about
all the hungry folks on this earth.
And you started the Hunger Project wherein
people could plant from our God’s fine earth.
You sang of God’s creation, which is far more
than I will ever do.
What an infinitesimal thing a POTD is, well, John,
when compared to your tunes.
I am so glad to this day, I had a personal chance
to talk with you.
You were as humble and beautiful as the twinkling
stars at night we love to view!
I have no idea why your plane crashed so-suddenly,
with you into the dark sea..
But here is one of your photographs, that is as beautifully
created ……as thee!
6/26/2023
I don't want to be a sad poem
Just like the late John Denver
Did not want to be a sad song.
No poet enjoys writing a sad poem
I don't know any singer who's eager
To compose or to sing a sad song.
Sad songs make people very uncomfortable
Please remove all the sad songs on the table
So nobody will find excuses to be inconsolable.
I am not a sad poem. I'll never be a sad one
John Denver was not a sad song, but a good one
Have I made myself clear? Now, I am done.
Copyright © May 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
The Air of a Different Century
David J Walker
And to think
I remember days in 1956
Not that they mattered to anyone
As young as me
Only that the sky was clear and
I breathed the air
of different century
where it rained on me
in the fall
and the snow was pure and
fell on all who braved the
winter storms of 1956
the hustler and bustlers drove cars
and took buses to
downtown Denver waiting
for golden flakes to fall
from the capital dome
It was my 1956 Home
Ode to John Denver, My Mentor, RIP!
You still burn brightly like a comet in my eyes.
You_John Denver, far too young to die.
People think of you as a singer and that's all?
You, who wanted all humanity to be fed, a purpose
far from small.
Humble is spirit, but who knows that?
Just an entertainer?
They only see you as a singer in a nightclub,
at times, in a hat?
To have had time to chat with you, one
on one?
A gift in my life beyond all measure!
You were a mix of talent and treasure.
With a bigger purpose in life than just
money and pleasure.
You were willing to chuck all music and
be trained as a leader in transformation.
But your airplane crashed into the Pacific.
So ended your life, God took you home.
In your airplane, your favorite means of
heavenly transportation.
6/14/2021
With the stage name “Denver,” beloved poet John
to country, folk and beautiful soft rock was drawn.
“Take Me Home Country Road” made him a star.
What lovely songs for nature he strummed on his guitar!
With the stage name “Denver,” beloved poet John
became a 70’s phenomenon.
To tunes like “Grandma’s Feather Bed” and “Annie’s Song”
his fans would listen and sing along.
With the stage name “Denver,” beloved poet John
crashed his plane one day, and in an instant he was gone.
His art lives on even though no longer can he roam.
How apt his autobiography’s name: Take Me Home.
Dec. 29, 2020
For Brian Strand's the 'YOU SELECT AGAIN' Poetry Contest
Motivated by growth,
So it's hard to lose.
Nothing frivolous on the mind.
Nothing to prove.
The best part about this mode,
You get to choose.
Constantly on a quest,
of expanding your views.
Like the news.
Just
A different agenda.
Becoming a real human,
And not a pretender.
I remember.
When,
I was a member.
Of a superficial life
That left me cold as Denver
In the winter.
DENVER SKIES UNSURPASSED
countryfied with Thompson Square
gueetar and bobbing heads
beach balls floating
not upbeat
enough for me
8/9/2019
*My favorite John Denver song is Wild Montana Skies
Denver down
To 3 and 6
Still don’t know if
They’re in the mix
THE SOUND
(Lakeside Park – Denver - 1947)
number 5 pulls up
they pour out the trolley doors
entry all ablaze
that distant sound excitement!
eyes closed big smile what heaven!
i’m remembering
harry james in the ballroom
his flashing trumpet
the flight of the bumblebee
how the white coaster frame shook
dissonance
blaring semis
oil smoke
where once stood
that gay old carousel
Dave Austin
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