usadeepsouth.com
. . . and selected poems by Eddie Edwards Draper
Little firefly your gazing bow so regal yet so free-- You drift and dart wherever breeze You please my iris - stay-- but you bygone at instant's wink no sooner left than blink-- But I can't wait my follies vamp tho' you scamper high-- yet I'll lay wait your neon trail until tomorrow's night-- |
PEACE ON THE ROAD
Having met the lines on Highway 8- And telling them how free they were And wishing our land were just that way-- I sat down on some blacktop surface That was never once discriminated against- The entire hour or more I sat and prayed for peace-- Meanwhile, the lines, which they said reached the river At Beulah, were starched in domino fashion Down to "Ole Muddy"-- But I could only see past the third white house And I arose to walk that two mile stretch-- The lady inside [toilet paper in hair] understood my theme- That peace was like that road outside- That lines could play their role and stay in place for Every mile through every day-- And then I had to leave her there and let her digest My sermon-- I got close to the water of that mighty river- Perhaps, that was where I learned the most of all-- For after that, wherever I went- I felt I had nature secured in a halo around my head-- Maybe I could do no more- But inside I felt I had done my share to tell my parables And explorations to the violent world-- So, until I reach your town, my unseen friend-- Keep on the road--The Road To Peace--- |
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TREES ARE MADE OF DOORS
Where bridges of my childhood expand--- Oh, little shoes in my cedar chest, I've willed you to my own child's nest-- And you, little cup, that nourished my young eyes-- To my little girl you go without the formal goodbyes- With one glance forward-and one last thought- They will be grown while my rockin chair awaits-- While I stand on the fender of time, And spurts of gray have spread my mind-- I may be wise--but not in the sight of my young one's eyes-- The legend of the dogwood tree just came to mind And another generation just left my door-- But, other trees will always grow-- I guess we can't always be the shade--- |
Eddie Draper is a native of the Mississippi Delta. He now lives and works in Nashville, Tennessee, where he is a songwriter and musician.
E-mail Eddie at Gravelroadmusic. To read more of Eddie's poetry, click here: POEMS And here: MORE POEMS Want to leave a comment about Eddie’s poems? Please visit our Message Board or write Ye Editor at bethjacks@hotmail.com. Back to USADEEPSOUTH - I index Back to USADEEPSOUTH - II index |