Sassafras Gold Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

SASSAFRAS GOLD

I took hold of the halter,
Threw a saddle on his back;
Tightened up the cinch strap
Not leaving any slack.

Slipped the bridle o'er his head
Adjusting bit just right,
Threw my leg up o'er his back
Boy! we were such a sight.

Out through the pasture we would go
A perfect rhythm in the sway,
As at a canter we did go
Out for a perfect day.

Across the cow-path, around the lake,
In trees with whispering leaf,
As we walked down that earthen path
This scene beyond belief.

Down to the farm road winding
Back to the fields so wide,
A stream ran down the middle
A railroad to one side.

Sweet clover hay did grow there
The creek ran clear and quick,
And at the back edge of the farm
The trees stood tall and thick.

I turned and rode my pony West
Along the rippling brook
Into a widened, deepened space,
A shaded swimming nook.

We traveled on through thickening woods
To a road where cars did run,
But I will pass beneath the bridge
Into the waiting sun.

Up the hill we're riding
Far up to new fields there,
With golden wheat now growing tall
And waving in the air.

I find a gentle ridge line
Exactly where I want to be,
To gather with my hatchet
The roots of the Sassafras Tree.

I dig down to the end of root
Just to trim and prune a bit.
No old root would you tempt to take,
No damage do to it.

These trees have given our family
For many years on end,
A root so fine for brewing,
With each pruning, does it contend.

I package up my treasure
And into saddlebags inter,
Now travel back down to the road
Another day to ensure.

Back at the house, I'm rubbing down
A pony white and brown
Wiping all the sweat away
Before he rolls upon the ground.

And take into the kitchen
This treasure that I hold,
And hand it to my mother;
This little bag, of Sassafras Gold.


Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

7-7-06
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Ms. Caroline


© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)