Recent Poems by William Franklin Andrews

BLUE HIGHWAYS

I wanna go back to the blue highways
Away from these crazy four-lanes;
Back to the yesterday world of the car
Where Burma Shave tickled my brain.

Burma Shave and Rock City signs
All scattered throughout the land
And hitching a ride from coast to coast
Was as easy as raising your hand.

These interstate highways are going nowhere
We are only spinning our wheels;
Crashing and banging a two-hour commute
To a job that is not a big deal.

So give me a space in the slow lane of life
Where troubles are always behind;
The four lanes of life are driving me mad
And these highways are breaking my mind!

- July 3, 2006

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HERE'S TO YOU WILLIAM BURR

You must have been a sturdy old man
William Burr Stinson 'cause you;
Had three wives and fifteen children
You sleep now between the first two.

Your grave is there by the side of the road -
It sure is a peaceful place;
Alive with fresh flowers the small cemetery
I noticed you saved me a space.

Grandmother told many stories
She tried to remember you well;
Although after your passing
She lived through many a hell.

They tell me you fought for the Rebels gray
Then fought for the Yankees blue;
That sure would make a great story.
I could tell it if it really were true.

You've been sleeping now a hundred years
You died long before I was born;
Age is now creeping up on me
And I'll join you some fair summer morn'.

- July 3, 2006. Frank Andrews, great-grandson of William Burr Stinson. The Rebels and Yankees are united again.

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