Willow, Oklahoma is my hometown. Here’s a poem I wrote about Willow. I hope you enjoy it and maybe come to visit sometime.
Where in the world is Willow?
Where the people are gentle
and the pace kind of slow
Where the cotton grows tall
And the wind sure can blow.
Where cattle and horses
Graze in the fields,
And windmills keep turning
like small ferris wheels.
Where old men and children
Work hand in hand
Cutting the wheat
And plowing the land.
Where a ‘Gang’ means a gathering
At the Willow Cafe
Discussing the weather
And the high cost of hay.
Where God is the answer
And the Bible no lie
Where neighbors know if you’re sick
And care when you die.
Where men risk their lives
When others are in trouble
With swift speed and action
They’re there on the double.
It’s my ‘HOMETOWN’
It’s roots, it’s heart.
A ‘Rockwell’ painting,
A place set apart.
“Where in the world is Willow,”
Did you say?
Why! It’s south of Ocina
And east of L. A.
This poem was written in November of 2006. It has a very special meaning for me because it was our first Christmas without Jim. We were still grieving but I had my children , the love and blessings of God, and also the little things that we tend to forget.
This poem was written shortly after the Oklahoma City bombing. I was bothered by such a senseless and horrible act of violence as well as other topics that divided our nation. I hope you enjoy it.