When I Crossed The Shenandoah
I used to wonder when I might again cross the Shenandoah
Would I recognize my former home, be at ease with the flow?
More than four years later and a myriad of opportunities
I am living a blessed life with my Amy that blissfully frees.
The Valley may be an oubliette from the swamp there in DC
Home of the many fact checkers, ostracizing and censoring me,
It may be more than seven years until I cross the Mississippi
I have spread out my roots and made a home within Missouri.
I often say a prayer for my loved ones who were left behind
We rang in the new year and sang carols until way past nine,
Still the pages of a book will turn and then new chapters begin
In a flurry and in a bit of a hurry, I am lifted and start to win.
It is not all daffodils and buttercups; not even a bed of roses
But eight hundred poems later, the Poets Pen still composes,
So let the waters of the Shenandoah flow into the deep sea
It is here in landlocked Missouri in which you now find me!
Written by Gary Cox 10/27/2021...to God be the glory