Mokeeta, Mokeeta; the soft winds are calling;
Oh where are you sleeping? Oh where can you be?
I miss you MOKEETA, when twilight is falling-
Oh why then so SILENT? Oh why then so far?
I miss you MOKEETA, Oh where can you be?

Far in the twilight your brown hair is gleaming-
I see your bright eyes in a faraway star!
I still hear your voice on the soft winds,Mokeeta;
Oh why then so SILENT? where summer dreams are.
Oh why then so silent? Oh why then so far?

I miss you Mokeeta, when twilight is falling’
The West is aflame, like a far golden sea!
Come on the CLOUDS where the wild wind is calling!
Come back on the RED SAILS of SUNSET to me.
Come back again, on the twilight, to me!

This life is a dream, tho an unending battle-
They say we are made up of CARBIDES and TEA-
But JOHN got a truck and he hauled home the cattle-
While I and MOKEETA sailed on the dim sea.
SHE CAME THROUGH THE TWILIGHT , AND MOONLIGHT TO ME!

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom, by the sea-
Forgotten now, but I loved her so-
And her name was…ANABEL LEE!
And she sleeps by the sounding sea.
Down by the sounding sea.

And there is never a song so dear-
Till lifes last tale is told-
And over her tomb, the silver moon,
Turns all her beams to gold-
Turn al her silver beams to gold-
And far across the sea-
The winds forever sing the song-
The song of Annabel Lee!

nd the stars never rise
But I feel thebright eyes
Of beautiful Annabel Lee!
And the moon never beams
Without bringing the dreams-
The old dreams of Annabel Lee
Down by the side of the shifting sand-
Down by the sounding sea!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Mokeeta, Mokeeta and more Annabel lee.

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I weave for you, again,
No “sillysong”….
Of sunsets in the WEST-
Or……drifting sky……
Or TWILIGHT HOURS, from forgotten days-

or how the PRAIRIE wind…..goes singing by!

I will not pause an hour again to build
A castle….in the far dim land of DREAM-
Or how the wind flows ever whispering by-
Or bright with GOLDEN LEAVES
THE OLD TREES LEAN!

I think there is an ANGEL very near-
Who tells me how to weave each word….and line:
Then we together sing this SILLYSONG-
Or play it on this Old Violin of mine!

I can not climb again the prairie hills-
Or walk for miles, or dow some dusty lane-
So let me KEEP this only land I know….
Of stars, and gleeming sky……
AND…..FAR OFF RAIN!

Thats as fine a poem as I can write… I didn’t write it, the ANGEL DID….as I say in my song. If its good enough for her, its GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYBODY…..even John F. Kennedy, only HE is dead. Woner how long it will be before they SHOOT BOBBY?

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Sillysong.

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There are no castles in this world,
Like once we built in Spain!
And never again the soft wind blows-
Adown the shady lane!

An Angel helped me write these lines-
She is always here with me!
Im sending HER to you today,
In a dreamers poetry!

I tell her “fly away out WEST!”
“Across the prairies wide-
And help a heart to find her rest-
The lonely bed beside!

Thy say there is a better land-
And it must surely be-
Or else why would an Angel come
And…..stay an hour……with me?

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at A Better Land.

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The song of love is a sad song-
I followed the trail and I know-
The song of lvoe is an old song-
And we lost it long ago!

The song of love is a bright song-
Tho bound in pain and woe-
The song of love is a dear old song-
FROM THE DAYS OF LONG AGO!

Say Darling Say-
When I am far away-
Gone like the days of September-
Will you feel sad,
To think you never had
SENT ME A LINE TO REMEMBER?

Say darling say-
Sumer has sped away-
Summer is gone, with its dreaming;
Oer the hills of home
Cold winds roam-
And goldenrods are gleaming.

Say Darling say-
Life has flown away,
Its so many years since we were young-
Rainbows of Spring,
Once were EVERYTHING-
SEND ME A LINE TO REMEMBER!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Song of Love.

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O tree of trees, neath skies of blue
I once was glad and young with you!

And now at last you sing to me,
Of all the years, that used to be!

a tree who slowly, softly weaves,
The “Songs of Summer” through her leaves!

A tree who bends, as winds go by
And autumn sunsets paint the sky!

A tree who marks, when years are gone-
In tiny rings, if rains were long!

I know that I can never write,
The song your branches, weave tonight!

A tree whose musician, the rain,
Plays on its leavs, “The Old Refrain.”

Oh Kilmer! take this song from me,
For I hve known, and loved, your tree!

Oh tree, I wish some day to lie,
Close by you, neath the prairie sky!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Singing Trees.

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If you have a heart for dreaming-
That somehow seems to care!
Then follow me down the pathway-
In the summer twilight there-
If you have a heart for dreaming-
Wherever the Fairies play-
Then follow me into the shadow
Of this old house today!

Of all the beautiful pictures
That hand on memories wall-
The one of the autumn twilight
Seems to be best of all-
Wife says its “Minnesota”-
For thats where she used to be-
To me it is only “Dreaming”-
Down lanes of melody.

The fields have turned to silver
Over the shinging wheat-
Ready to turn to waves of gold
Where winds of summer meet!
But over me a shadow
Drifts like the winds today-
Tho over my house the leaning trees
Sing their heart away.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Lifes Highway.

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If we could trade away our “lost tomorrows”
And win with them the “Years that used to be”-
The young girl, with the brown eyes’
By the table…..the whispering winds in Spring-
That sang to me!

The crimson tinted clouds of Early Morning-
The summerdays so softly laid to rest!
The rustling corn, the night,
With twiight falling-
Of all these days, which do we call the best?

But no one wants to trade away TOMORROW;
It is in our last days…a precious dream;
The twilight comes too soon across the prairie-
And WINTER comes again, when summers gone.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Lost Tomorrows.

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I had a dream, Dear-
You had one too-
Yours was the best dream-
I ever knew!

You were so Young then-
YA…..an so fine!
She gave e her dream-
I gave her mine!

James Witcomb Riley-
LISTEN TO ME-
Help me to weave this
Soft Melody!

She ws so YOUNG then-
Ya…….AN SO FINE!
She gave me her dream!
I gave her mine!

We had these dreams dear-
You had one too-
Tho what the dreams were-
Nobody knew!

You were so young then-
Ya…..an so fine!
YOU GAVE ME YOUR DREAM
I GAVE YOU MINE!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Only a Dream.

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Old Sam Bass was another “bad-man”-
There was othing else to do-
When he stood up, he didn’t care a damn
That HE WOULD SHOOT THE RANGERS DOWN,

AND, RUN THE BOYS IN BLUE!

He used to follow the race tracks-
You would always see him there-
An he had one good Pal, and true,
THEY CALLED HER THE DENTON MARE!

They were a SET OF COWBOYS!
Had WHISKEY on the brain-
On there way back to TEXAS they robbed
THE UNION PACIFIC TRAIN!

On their way back from Texas-
They……ROBBED THE U.P. TRAIN!

A couple PALS go shot that night-
(Just so the fight was fair)
But……Sam rode into DENTON,
A GALLOPING HIS MARE!

At last the brave sam met his end-
And…that was the end of HIM-
He was shot down to pay a debt
BY A CROOKED MAN NAMED “JIM”!

This is true Jim hd borrowed a lot of GOLD from Sam and took this mean way of paying it back, by shooting sam!

Some think he’s gone to Heaven…..
Theres none of us can say-
But if he’s gone to the OTHER PLACE
I’ll meet him there some day!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Cowby Poem Sam Bass.

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Here is one to “old man dreams”
that we just wrote today, Grandpa
And I and the “Guardian Angel”…….

Dreams, Old Dreams, is a funny old man-
For you never, never can tell0
Which of his dreams, when the night time comes,
HE…..IS BRINGING TO YOU……TO SELL!

It may be a dream, of the “Hellava” time
When Herrman crossed the divide-
Then…durried home….tho no alone…..
For…..Joan….was by his side!

Or it may be a dream of a HAPPY day -
I think it comes in June-
When the Kissners get sick
At the “Big Picnic”……..
Then…..drive home…..under the moon!

Or it may be a dream, of the “Golden Days”-
With all the world in a WHIRL-
And you had bot, that “Hellava” watch-
That you gave…..to the wrong girl!

For all these dreams come drifting home-
When the wind down the river is fair-
You can see them roosting, all alone,
On the Damn Antenna, there!

And….SOMETIMES a dream oof an Unknown Lan,d,
Tho it is not so far-
Te home where we all have to go someday-
The “Land where the angels are”

For every person has his dream
Where ever the wnds blow free!
And I have sent in Golden Rime-
These Dreams….to you from….me!

At ast each dreamer, from his dream,
unwillingly, awoke!
And…neither of his precioius dream
unto the other spoke
But of the love they bore those dreams
Gave each his tender sign!
For…..THERE WAS TRIUMPH in his eyes-
And…ther were TEARS….in mine!”

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Remembering Howard and K..

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