Show jesse stuart kentucky poet writes of magic and romantic world of childhood sun in the sky the oak stained autumn sky wind in the sassafras sprouts the great skies that sweep over the W hollow and the stream sings a song it was when you were young here that the hollow looked like a fairyland to you it was the scene of your childhood you can remember the martins around the boxes in early spring fighting the english sparrows you remember uncle mel used to throw clods out of the garden at the sparrows and try tr to run them out for the martins you remember the bee stands under the plum trees and the bees working on the white plum blosso blossom mst sl you remember the flags by the W V branch in white purple and yellow blossoms and the bees working on them you remember the smell of the hot young corn in the little bottoms bottom sand and you remember the watermelon patch and the creek where you left your clothes when you went in swimming by the sycamore you owned the hills then all of the W hollow but you have a deed for those wooded acres with its millions of wild flowers and its foxes rabbits squirrels turtles and terrapins it was a heaven here to you the sun came over the timbered hills in the morning ran down a blue pathless sky and dragged a patch of red in the long summer evenings over the green chestnut trees on the ridge you remember it was heaven t to 0 you a paradise of earth where there was poetry on the ground the nodding flowers the green hair of april I 1 it was a heaven of childhood with the log shack and tumbling bartis barns and cornfields but time came by and stole that faraway far away fairyland from youl jesse stuart kentucky poet of W hollow in the southern literary messenger |