I still remember, though I live
In this far land beside the sea
The joyful beauty that did give
To me my childhood Tennessee.

In times long past, in distant land,
At year’s height journeys oft we planned,
And rose we then near death of night,
As in the east the sky grew light.
And mounting upon metal steed,
We sped forth tow’rd the ocean’s seed
Upon a twisting, sable snake
Of coarse black stone of mannish make.
At length came we into a town
(In those fair parts, of great renown)
Snug settled in a rocky gorge–
To Gatlinburg, to Pigeon Forge.

It was, that town, a child’s delight.
The colored shingles beckoned bright
To enter one or other store
And o’er the diverse goods to pour.
Here was a shop of many joys–
Of games and painted wooden toys.
There, from the candy store, the scent
Of taffy, fudge, choc’late and mint
Wafted to many “Mmm’s” and stares,
Enticing some to taste the wares.
From here and there came sweet the twang
As country bards and banjoes sang.

Then lunch might we in some fair glen
And gaze upon the flowers. Then
Press forward on our upward trail
To see from whence the oceans hail.
About us tow’red the mountains tall.
The misty spray of waterfall
Roared loud at us, and sweet did cry
The bluebird in the azure sky.
And from our metal steed dismount
Would we to gaze at some clear fount
Of water gurgling from the stone–
Old Earth’s exposèd ancient bone.

Climb would we up some road of sod
And marvel at the works of God:
The silver rivers sparkling clear,
The Smokey Mountains rising sheer;
The tow’ring green of maple, pine,
And oak; and white clouds cotton-fine.
Beside a rushet, on a hill,
Of wood and stone a watermill,
Though stilled, yet gave to gazing eye
A vision of a time gone by.
And all creation’s beauty pure
Seemed evidence of God’s grandeur.

Then mount we would our metal beast
As sky was dark’ning in the east,
And turn our eyes unto our home,
Away from each snow-cappèd dome.
And as we sped upon our way,
And as the night o’ertook the day,
Far in the west, on heaven’s bowl
Would purple, pink, and red hues roll.
The sun would set, the moon would rise,
And starry mists pread ‘cross the skies.
Then finally would come sweet rest–
In mine own bed–the very best.

I still remember, though I dwell
In this far land beside the sea,
The beauty of the mount and dell–
My childhood home, fair Tennessee.

Jeremy Brown. 1994.