July

I am told that I need to add posts to the blog in order to make this place interesting to others. So here is my first post.

As I reflect on my life, July stands as a prominent month, with many fond and tender memories from childhood and beyond.

reunions,

vacations,

floating the river,

nectarines warmed and sweetened by the sun,

fried chicken,

shrimp salad,

bare feet,

grass,

rhubarb,

gooseberries,

fireworks,

parades

(holding back tears as

the color guard passes by),

popsicles,

Orange Crush and Grape Nehi,

celebration,

swimming,

waterslides,

water fights,

Kingsburg band concerts

(playing percussion without any beat),

cherries,

lemonade,

green apples,

hot asphalt,

fishing,

hiking,

dew on the tent,

rafting,

whitewater,

friends,

family

Then there is the reminder of heritage and patriotism that floods in July. Gratitude for those who gave so much to gain and preserve my freedoms and my faith; patriots, soldiers, statesmen, pioneers.

I hope that I have not kept this all to myself, but that I have passed on the heritage to others. That they too can appreciate the simple, yet so precious joys of this life. What a shame if my children and grandchildren cannot relish in these things.

They Walked And Walked To Zion
Robert D. Talbot © 01/12/04

Persecutions for their belief finally drove them away,
left Nauvoo behind, walked to Zion, they could not stay.
Shared together tears of joy and shed tears of pain,
with great focus press forward, through driving rain.
Wheels of their wagons would stick in heavy mud,
each must part with belongings they cherished and loved.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Leaving family and loved ones, Winter Quarters behind,
moving forward on the trail, promised land eager to find.
Tucking children in, one would lay down for the night,
often awaken to a loved one who’s spirit, had given flight.
Broken hearts they all suffer, cannot break their strong will,
leaving loved ones alongside the trail, underneath a small hill.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Soles worn from their shoes exposing cold frozen feet,
trudging through the deep snow no ready source for heat.
Blizzards blow frozen wind, frost bitten feet in the snow,
saints of all ages share tears of joy and pain as they go.
No food for them to consume, no provisions to share,
each starving, life on the line, not a grain to declare.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Leather from their shoes tongue, a broth boiled to drink,
this saved them on the trail from deaths impending brink.
Over majestic mountains high, and through valleys low,
The Lord’s faithful saints had, but one place to go.
Though less in number triumphantly they had arrived,
the promised land of the Lord, grateful joy felt inside.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

(To Bro. Talbot, your poetry moved me and I wished to share.
If I have violated your literary property, my apologies, and I will make amends if you will let me know.)