Old Noble Blue
By Willjxn
My thoughts of past and future, presently ally,
As I find I’m dreaming, of memories gone bye.
Old pickup truck comes rattling up, to carry me away,
To times of fading yester-yore, where family work and play.
My mom and dad first greet me, with children not a few,
In Chevy truck, our family's haul, our friend, Old Noble Blue.
Many times on mountain trips, across The Great Divide,
Up and down the rocky roads, Old Blue, would give us ride,
Up sandstone desert roadways, all curved and tightly bent,
To Anasazi mesa lands, he’d make the steep ascent.
With camper shell strapped tightly, to his wood striped bed,
Through wooded streams and rivers, Old Blue would gladly head.
In Spring, a moldy load he’d take, of cow dung mixed with hay,
From the barn, with putrid smell, to mend the garden clay.
To summer’s flooded fields of grass, a rattling, he would go,
Or many a load of heavy bales, Old Blue would ably stow.
The cows in tow, they’d follow, Old Noble Blue along,
With hay for bait, to pastures green, and where the grass grows strong.
There too, Old Blue would hold the fence, to mend it’s cow worn holes,
Stretching taut, a barbed wire knot, wrapped round the cedar poles.
In summer nights, in back of him, we’d take a splendid ride,
And laying there we’d watch the stars and see the moon unhide.
In fall, Old Blue would take a charge up mountain lanes to haul,
Aspen, pine, and cottonwood, to store for winter’s call.
In wild winter’s storming, Old Blue would kindly take,
Hay, for hungry cows and calves, to calm their bellyache.
In and out of bar-pits, Old Noble Blue would weave,
Teenage driving lessons, where dings, he’d there receive.
His sideboard often shuttled, friends with fangs and paws,
Where stowaways, in motions grip, would learn of Newton's Laws.
Old Noble Blue taught lessons, more prized than jewels or gold.
Like loyalty, and faithfulness, to gracefully grow old.
We learned, from Blue, the value of putting in hard work,
He’s taught us how to live life well, and labor, never shirk.
One day when I was home awhile to visit family,
I had the need to walk our land and look for clarity.
As I turned home, in evening light, I caught a word embossed,
In clay, in hay, in cow dung lay, the CHEVROLET thought lost.
Now hangs upon my garden fence in rusty faded hue,
A battered noble remnant, the tailgate of Old Blue.
No matter where we live our lives or where our paths will wend,
Or through God’s garden gates we go, so may our paths all end.
Old Noble Blue has tales to share and carry us along,
Though to our view he’s gone from us, his tailgate rattles on.
A trusting voice comes echoing, mid rattling tailgate bounce,
“Wake up, wake up, we’re nearing home!” I hear my dad announce.
By Willjxn
My thoughts of past and future, presently ally,
As I find I’m dreaming, of memories gone bye.
Old pickup truck comes rattling up, to carry me away,
To times of fading yester-yore, where family work and play.
My mom and dad first greet me, with children not a few,
In Chevy truck, our family's haul, our friend, Old Noble Blue.
Many times on mountain trips, across The Great Divide,
Up and down the rocky roads, Old Blue, would give us ride,
Up sandstone desert roadways, all curved and tightly bent,
To Anasazi mesa lands, he’d make the steep ascent.
With camper shell strapped tightly, to his wood striped bed,
Through wooded streams and rivers, Old Blue would gladly head.
In Spring, a moldy load he’d take, of cow dung mixed with hay,
From the barn, with putrid smell, to mend the garden clay.
To summer’s flooded fields of grass, a rattling, he would go,
Or many a load of heavy bales, Old Blue would ably stow.
The cows in tow, they’d follow, Old Noble Blue along,
With hay for bait, to pastures green, and where the grass grows strong.
There too, Old Blue would hold the fence, to mend it’s cow worn holes,
Stretching taut, a barbed wire knot, wrapped round the cedar poles.
In summer nights, in back of him, we’d take a splendid ride,
And laying there we’d watch the stars and see the moon unhide.
In fall, Old Blue would take a charge up mountain lanes to haul,
Aspen, pine, and cottonwood, to store for winter’s call.
In wild winter’s storming, Old Blue would kindly take,
Hay, for hungry cows and calves, to calm their bellyache.
In and out of bar-pits, Old Noble Blue would weave,
Teenage driving lessons, where dings, he’d there receive.
His sideboard often shuttled, friends with fangs and paws,
Where stowaways, in motions grip, would learn of Newton's Laws.
Old Noble Blue taught lessons, more prized than jewels or gold.
Like loyalty, and faithfulness, to gracefully grow old.
We learned, from Blue, the value of putting in hard work,
He’s taught us how to live life well, and labor, never shirk.
One day when I was home awhile to visit family,
I had the need to walk our land and look for clarity.
As I turned home, in evening light, I caught a word embossed,
In clay, in hay, in cow dung lay, the CHEVROLET thought lost.
Now hangs upon my garden fence in rusty faded hue,
A battered noble remnant, the tailgate of Old Blue.
No matter where we live our lives or where our paths will wend,
Or through God’s garden gates we go, so may our paths all end.
Old Noble Blue has tales to share and carry us along,
Though to our view he’s gone from us, his tailgate rattles on.
A trusting voice comes echoing, mid rattling tailgate bounce,
“Wake up, wake up, we’re nearing home!” I hear my dad announce.
Not sure if I've seen this one on Facebook. But, it's good!
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