When I was a little girl, I grew up across the street from a great old oak tree... and every day I would climb up into its highest branches, swing my legs in the air, and sing at the top of my lungs. Some years later, the tree was taken down and destroyed to build a church. I was devastated. Surely, there was no greater cathedral to give glory to God than that old oak...
Excellent song, Ron. It seems like something that might have been played sitting out on the porch on Dad's autoharp while watching the fireflies dance in the night. I imagined a curl of smoke from grandpa's old pipe while the family sang together after a long day of tending fields and animals. Funny how all this came to mind without you mentioning any of it, but your images were vivid and my imagination was ripened by your words. Nice job, Ron!!
Take care,
Sherry
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on November 20, 2005
This is a song I could feel being sang by the campfire and enjoyed by all.
This is the story of the author’s great great grandparents, Edward Lewis and Sarah Crosby, who were convicts transported to Van Diemen’s Land in the 1840s. It is told from the perspective of a detective agency searching for what happened to Edward, w
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Take care,
Sherry
Love it!!
Love Tinka
Excellent!
Love,
Eileen