AUDIE RAY

I used to know a little boy, his name was Audie Ray, I worked the fields up near his home and watched him at his play.

A little King in his Domain, he wandered far, and wide, A sling-shot in his pocket, his collie by his side.

I watched him dig the fishing worms, put a bandage on his toe, stuff a battered straw hat on his head, he was ready then to go.

He wandered through the wooded hills, down to the winding brook, and deftly cut a willow pole, then gently tossed the hook.

His patience didn't last too long, they didn't bite somehow: He'd thought about a berry patch that should be ripe by now.

He passed a hickory on the way, climbed up and cut a limb, and made himself a whistle that sounded good to him.

A grey dove fluttered from her nest as if her wing was sore; He laughed as collie gave her chase, she'd fooled him once before.

He came out by a little pond, It's water clear and blue, Off came the little shirt and jeans; He swam the hour through.

T'was then he heard the dinner bell, there'd be time to eat a bite. But the wind was blowing just enough to fly the yellow kite.

I'd see them both each evening when dusk was drifting in, I'd watch the collie drive the sheep and put them in the pen.

John L. Gwaltney

TO THE CHILDREN

Each evening late I quit the fields for a time we all enjoy, When I romp with a little blue-eyed blonde, and a little brown-eyed boy.

They know this hour belongs to them. It's been a long, long wait, and they smother me with kisses, as I come through the old yard gate.

I must see their mud pies in the sun, some flowers that have bloomed anew, There's a wren house needing small repair. there's so many things to do.

And what do I think is at the barn? They found them just today, their bantam hen has six new chicks: We must feed them right away.

And Freckles, the bird dog must be tied. He chased their cat away, Tom climbed the tree by the lower well and stayed up there all day.

Count the precious metals of the earth; Count each precious stone and gem. Their worth would be a trifle small to either one of them.

I know we pray they'll both grow up, their place in life to find; But we dare not let our minds stray once to the days we're left behind.

John L. Gwaltney