November 2004 - Olmsted Falls
If I had but the gift of the gods to command
The gift they alone could impart
I'd paint you the scenes of a beautiful land
That lives like a dream in my heart.
I'd paint you the path where my feet used to rove
'Neath skies ever smiling and blue,
'Til I found once again in Turkeyfoot Grove
The place where the wintergreens grew.
I'd paint you the river ere the shadows awake
At the close of a calm summer's day,
Of wavelets that dance and sing as they break
On the sands that stretch far away.
I'd blend the blue waters with clouds hanging low
From the dome of the sun kissed sky,
And I'd paint on each crest a beautious glow
As enchanted, before me they lie.
I'd paint you the swing neath the old apple tree
Where happy and care-free we swung,
The sweet scented blossoms the hum of the bees
And I'd paint you the songs that we sung;
And a little brown cottage half hid by the trees
Festooned with bell creepers o'er
And the tall evergreen that swayed in the breeze
With the path leading up to the door.
I'd paint you a joyfull of infinite bliss
I'd paint you a heart beating high,
I'd paint you a smile and I'd paint you a kiss
But never a tear or a sigh.
And I'd paint you the stories dear grandma would tell
Of ladies and knights - ever fair,
And I'd paint you the fairies that came far to dwell
In the castles I'd build in the air.
I'd paint you the path to the old sulphur spring
'Neath the shadows the tall cliff is throwing
And I'd paint you the gleam of the pure crystal stream
From the heart of the rocks, ever flowing.
Oh, I'd paint you the village my memory recalls
When visions arond me are creeping,
I'd paint you the hills of old Olmsted Falls
Where my youth and my childhood are sleeping.
by George E. Kidney of Ravenna, OH (7/24/56 to 9/7/46)
George E. Kidney was the son of Nathan Kidney [John, James, Petrus, Robert Isaac, John/Jan] and Margaret Shutts.