When my Aunt Bert died, I wrote this memory
of how it was living on a farm during the Depression, combined with my concept of Heaven.
All the people mentioned are dead now. I read this
poem at Bertha's memorial.
Bertha’s Coming Home Tonight
The old ones have all gone now
up those Golden Stairs.
There’s hay stacked for the horses in the barn.
They’re grubbing up potatoes
and stacking corn stalks high
‘cause Bertha’s coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.
Willie is laughing and telling Indian tales
while Aunt Sarah is baking
biscuits on her wooden stove.
Pap and Mammy are dancing
through the clouds and all around
‘cause Bertha’s coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.
God’s here with them tasting Minnie’s apple pies;
Bill Cornett and Dorothy are fishing over stars;
and Preston’s playing cards
with Lish, Ben and Maurice,
‘cause Bertha’s coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.
Zora is now kissing Ben gently on the cheek
while Paul is making a barbecue.
Cousin Lucille, Sara and Anna Lee
are swinging from the moon,
‘cause Bertha’s coming home tonight
up those Golden Stairs.
Most of us were on farms during the depression. It was much harder on city folks because food was easier to come by on the farm. You write of a simpler time when things were more clearly determined by the weather and hard work. Those times were much harder than today but we only remember the good times. It's great to reminisce but no one will want to go back there and live. The Golden stairs claimed a lot of people back then.
From the Caribbean Sea to Machu Picchu in Peru, and from birds to flowers and butterflies, Reflections and Treasured Wonders offers a collection of images gathered from around the world.
These song lyrics and art are tales, tides and twinkling lights - tunes telling stories of warmth and sun, city and sand, paths that lead, and the coins we can keep in the Karma Bank. Spirit's been bypassed for sorrow, dreaming of a better tomorrow .
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budd
Ron
Cheers,
Dan