Bound Oklahoma Way

Her plains and woodlands call to me,
A dream of former day
When eagles soared so proud and free
Above the grasslands' sway.

If I could ride the winds and see
Deer leap in bold array
When Oklahoma's history
By Indians was made,

I'd hold such moments tenderly
And every time I pray
I'd say, "God please just let me be
Bound Oklahoma way."

For when the dawn steals quietly
where sleeping valleys lay
I know that I will always be
Bound Oklahoma way.

The Brown's Springs Legend

By moonlight dancing through the trees
We saw the gleam of eerie eyes
In creeping shadows by degrees
Sometimes obscuring midnight skies.

That night we all believed the lies,
Those tales of evil, that men do
By dark concealment, in disguise;
The Brown's Springs Legend, is it true?

Faint voices cry out on the breeze
From rocks and mossy tombstones rise.
They seemed to whisper, "help us, please!"
As we stood listening in surprise,

We shivered at those awful cries
That seemed to inundate the view,
Saliva forms then quickly dries,
The Browns Springs Legend, is it true?

Those sounds will always make you freeze,
A man can not move if he tries.
Calamity there by a sneeze,
or die from awful, ghostly cries..

We came here searching for a clue,
But cant forget compelling pleas.
The Browns Springs Legend, is it true?

Now we have gone down to our knees,
The power drew us once we knew
This night would charge us deadly fees.
The Browns Springs Legend, is it true?

In No Grand Halls

A territory claimed by few,
the home of Red man's hopes,
where 'possum grapes and berries grew
upon her rolling slopes.

In winter time, her mistletoe
was sought to bring romance.
Its' branches hung where lovers go,
yet often seems by chance.

Soft summer nights brought a parade
of lights across her skies,
as countless twinkling stars there made
a heavenly surprise.

The Oklahoma Autumn calls
all spirits to be free,
her beauty found in no grand halls,
but whispers now to me.

The Last Time I saw Oklahoma

If I could only know tomorrow's fee
For days filled with my sorrow and my tears,
When time seems heavy and too hard to bear,

I'd gaze on Oklahoma's morning light,
As if it were the last I'd ever see.
I'd gather colors in my heart, to be
Remembered fondly when the evenings fall,

Then I would pick the autumn harvests, ripe
From Oklahoma with a trembling hand
As if it were the last I'd ever see.

Mourn the Dove

The call of mourning dove, with plaintive ring
Now shimmers on the new and sun washed air.
Her message heralds bright and joyful spring
Concealed, yet by her wisdom will declare.

Unknown to her, he is awaiting there
To shatter all the beauty of the view.
He takes a careful, practiced aim, to tear
Apart the silence while his bullets spew.

In aftermath of hunter's act, she knew
Her mate was gone forever, but not why,
And then, despite their warning cries, she flew.

Oklahoma Redbud

The Oklahoma Redbuds, shy,
display a gentle hue
in springtime where we often spy
their tones of pink to view.

The season passes quickly by,
and blossoms fade like dew.
Their leaves un-noticed 'neath blue sky
will hide a thing or two.

I want to live beneath this sky,
feel gladdened by the view
and where one never fails to sigh
at beauty always new.

There, growing quietly on high,
the Redbud gives a clue
that it is time to say goodbye,
their whisper was for you.

Oklahoma Yesterday

In Oklahoma's blood bought land
There lies the scarring of her past.
The native counsels wisely planned
Ways to assure their game would last,
Avoiding famine or a fast.
And all those mighty chieftains bold
Created methods that would stand,
Our Oklahoma legends told.

Too soon, the native way was banned
By treaties written to lambaste
Their former liberties so grand.
Yet, none of them conceived the vast
Deception that the white men cast.
Life based on love and not on gold,
Yet hearing warning cries, were bland,
Our Oklahoma legends told.

Restrictions were imposed that spanned
Long years and warriors were aghast
At murder done there in the sand,
Now on the plains, windswept and grassed,
where spirits of those chieftains hold
the freedom of those tribes once massed,
Our Oklahoma legends told.

Face Another Day

Now dawn's cool breezes drift past me
With fragrant promise they won't keep.
As light advances I can see
The season dying. Then I weep
For Oklahoma in her sleep.
Arise her spirit, then away,
Despite hot winds that seem to sweep,
And we must face another day.

In rising numbers, heat's degree
Becomes a horror we must reap.
The breaths we draw are never free
And prices paid seem much too steep.
Our hopes now we must bury deep;
Forget we ever wished to play
The games of life, which made us weep,
And we must face another day.

We'll squander what may never be;
That precious time we thought was cheap
It was but artful legacy
of customs followed just like sheep,
And count them when we cannot sleep.
Sometimes, I feel I'd rather play
Than go and climb the hills too steep
And we must face another day.

Into the dawn where our dreams keep,
When reveries around us stay,
Then taking chances we all leap
For we must face another day.

River Dreaming

In reverie I dream of yesterday,
And drift beside the lazy, currents red,
Where you and I as children there would play,
"And I'll love you forever," I said.

Web-spinning now in gilded dreams I stray
Wherever once, imaginings were bred,
We ran across the sandy, river's way,
"And I'll love you forever," I said.

We wandered through the shaded woods to hear
The sweeter music sung by birds of red,
And gentle breezes stirred your curls so dear,
"And I'll love you forever," I said.

We were so young and free, without a care,
In dreams I wander back to those old days,
To times of dreaming, and with hearts so bare,
Now yesterday lives in the softest haze.

Although I walk upon this rivers shore,
This ancient river of our special joy,
I dream the finding of a magic door,
Remembering the sweet love of a boy.