Thursday, January 21, 2021


Open Link Night #282  at dVerse.  I've  been thinking of good intentions and best laid plans.  While this poem is not autobiographical, I have my own set of best laid plans that never came to fruition.  One of my best intentions is to join in the live exchange.  Perhaps next week.                                              Submitted to dVerse January 21, 2021 



Deep in Appalachia

My daddy used to say

Is the cabin where I was born

I want to go back one day

I want to hear the whippoorwill

See the flash of the red-tailed hawk

I want to hear my mother

In that soft, tender way she talked

I want to see the sun come up

Over the top of Cosgrove’s mountain

And taste the crystal clear water

From  Cardwell’s artesian fountain

I want to be again the barefoot boy

With my home-made fishing pole

And skinny dip with a boyhood friend

In our secret swimming hole

I always thought I’d take him back

To the Appalachia he wanted to see

Somehow there wasn’t time enough

For that trip for Daddy and me. 

And if I had my life to live over

I’d take care to set aside

Some time for me and Daddy

   And we’d take that mountain ride.  



  1. This is incredibly moving, Beverly! May our intentions be fulfilled beyond expectation and bring us joy! 💝💝

  2. Bittersweet .. beautifully told from generational views. I lost my Dad when I was 16, missed so many years of stories.

  3. Your poem brings back some of the stories I've heard Johnny Cash tell. Beverly, I really hope you make it to the live pub next time.

  4. Heart touching, bittersweet and evocative poem

  5. Reminds of that bittersweet song of Cat Stevens ... well written!

    agree Beverly, those words totally intrigued me ... I'd love to hear them set to music.

    1. I actually thought of sending it to Garth Brooks, Kate. I'd love to hear him sing it!

  6. This sounds like a wonderful place and I hope that you at least get to go back there! I also hope to hear you read :-)

  7. Bittersweet and lovely Beverly.
    I too have best laid plans I doubt will ever come to fruition.
    Anna :o]

  8. When you run out of time...Your poem has a gentle, lilting tone. Even if it isn't autobiographical, it comes from the heart.

  9. You made me cry Bev. This was tender, sad, and full of love. Just wonderful writing my friend!

  10. There is a lot of love in your words. Unfullfilled intentions can become sad regrets. You wrote with longing. Thank you for sharing.

  11. Charming and tender, such a great ode to simpler times.

  12. Apologies for reading and commenting late, Bev. I enjoyed your nostalgic trip so much! It reminded me of the films and books that introduced me to America. I wasn’t sure if it was real, but from reading your poems, and those of others, I know that it is. I used to dream of living in a log cabin and listening to whippoorwills.

    1. Thanks so much for your kind comment, Kim. After the American Revolution, the government encouraged settlement of lands west of the Ohio River by requiring a settler to clear the land and build a cabin at least 10 by 12 feet in size with one window. My ancestors were some of the earliest settlers west of the Ohio, and the area was peppered with such log cabins. Further west where there were no forests, settlers cut blocks of sod from the prairie and build their homes of sod. These were called sod shanties.

  13. a trip down memeory lane is always good. sorry i am late reading

  14. So poignant Beverly! This is both personal and universal--that desire to return and the wish that we could have done more for loved ones.