Buried Between two Trees
Back home again
in the yard
I used to play in
So many memories here
of days long ago
for memories, I hold dear
Saw the grave of old shep
the dog I loved so
in this yard, he followed me every step
He's buried between two trees you see
buried him in my brand new quilt
and my mother was really mad at me
In this yard, I would bathe him
many years before
his old eyes grew dim
His bed layed by the cellar door
with tall trees, all around him
oh memories, of the dog I adored
Memories of the time
that the meter man came
he hit old shep, that wasn't very kind
This old yard, was all shep had
he guarded it with his life
when he died, I was very sad
This old yard, now has in it,
a lot of beautiful flowers, all round
between two trees, he wouldn't mind a bit.
Related quotes
Memories in the mind
Memories are made in the mind,
and there if you search, you will find.
There in the mind, so many things,
so many memories it brings.
So many years have passed,
of our youth, away we have cast
some memories happy, some memories sad,
memories have I, when I was a lad.
Memories have I, of a dog named shep,
memories of him, when he kept in step.
Memories of my friends, when we played,
of those days, for ever memories relayed.
Memories of family and fun,
when we talked until the setting of sun.
Memories of washing our fifty-seven Ford,
and wanting things we couldn't afford.
Memories are made in the mind,
long lost, search and you will find,
memories of days gone by,
searching memories, oh how you try.
Memories will fade out,
you have forgotton, what it's about,
memories lost in the mind,
dig them out and you will find.
The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990
Old Shep
(words & music by foley - westpar)
When I was a lad
And old shep was a pup
Over hills and meadows wed stray
Just a boy and his dog
We were both full of fun
We grew up together that way
I remember the time at the old swimmin hold
When I would have drowned beyond doubt
But old shep was right there
To the rescue he came
He jumped in and then pulled me out
As the years fast did roll
Old shep he grew old
His eyes were fast growing dim
And one day the doctor looked at me and said
I can do no more for him jim
With hands that were trembling
I picked up my gun
And aimed it at sheps faithful head
I just couldnt do it
I wanted to run
I wish they would shoot me instead
He came to my side
And looked up at me
And laid his old head on my knee
I had struck the best friend that a man ever had
I cried so I scarcely could see
Old shep he has gone
Where the good doggies go
And no more with old shep will I roam
But if dogs have a heaven
Theres one thing I know
Old shep has a wonderful home
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Shep
(clyde red foley, willis arthur)
When I was a lad and old shep was a pup
Over hills and meadows wed stray.
Just a boy and his dog, we were both full of fun,
We grew up together that way.
I remember the time by the old swimming hole
When I wouldve drowned beyond doubt.
But old shep was right there, to the rescue he came,
He jumped in and helped pull me out.
Well, the years passed and rolled and old shep, he grew old,
His eyes they were fast growing dim.
Then one day the doctor looked at me and said,
i cant do no more for him, jim.
With hands that were tremblin, I picked up my gun,
I aimed it at sheps faithful head.
But I just couldnt do it, I wanted to run,
I wished they would shoot me instead.
Well, he crawled to my side and he looked up at me,
He laid his old head on my knee.
Id lost the best friend that a boy ever had,
I cried so I scarcely could see.
Well, old shep he is gone where the good doggies go,
No more with old shep will I roam.
But if dogs have a heaven, well theres one thing I know,
Old shep has a wonderful home.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Famous Dog Story
The story I am about to tell you it well may be true
For the one who told it to me for to give him his due
Is one who does not make up stories nor neither is he
One prone to imagine it would seem to me.
We were swapping dog stories myself and old Lew
Of dogs we heard tell of and dogs that we knew
Of dogs who are honoured in story and rhyme
The history of their greatness has lived on in time.
But the best dog story he told me was one I heard before
When I was a young school-boy going back five decades or more
The greatest dog story that he can recall
Perhaps is the greatest dog story of all.
A story from early Spring the weather was cold
The red shorthorn calf had strayed from her mother a young five days old
In the field by the farm-yard the cow bellowed around
But her calf did not reply and was not to be found.
The farmer searched for her with Shep his brown cattle dog
But no trace of the calf in the field by the bog
He then thought the calf may have strayed and in a bog hole drown
Still no trace of the young heifer though the bog he searched up and down.
But in the gray dawning of the very next day
Old Shep the brown dog to the yard made his way
With the red heifer calf suckling on the end of his tail
That the clever dog had dipped into a full milk pail.
The mother cow was delighted her calf she did lick
And none more relieved than the old farmer Mick
As he patted his dog you're a hero he did say
This a famous dog story that lives on today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Day Of Sunshine
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I roved to the woods, on my back I lay,
In cradle of fancy rolled me;
But there were ants, and gnats that bite,
The horse-fly was keen, the wasp showed fight.
'Dear me, don't you want to be out in this fine
weather?' -said mother, who sat on the steps and sang.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
A meadow I found, on my back I lay,
And sang what my spirit told me;
Then snakes came crawling, a fathom long,
To bask in the sun,-I fled with my song.
'In such blessed weather we can go barefoot,'-said mother,
as she pulled off her stockings.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I loosened a boat, on my back I lay,
While blithely the current bowled me;
But hot grew the sun, and peeled my nose;
Enough was enough, and to land I chose.
'Now these are just the days to make hay in,'- said mother,
as she stuck the rake in it.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I climbed up a tree, oh, what bliss to play,
As cooling the breeze consoled me;
But worms soon fell on my neck, by chance,
And jumping, I cried: ''T is the Devil's own dance!'
'Yes, if the cows aren't sleek and shiny to-day, they'll
never be so,'-said mother, gazing up the hillside.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I dashed to the waterfall's endless play,
There only could peace enfold me.
The shining sun saw me drown and die,-
If you made this ditty, 't was surely not I.
'Three more such sunshine-days, and everything will
be in,'-said mother, and went to make my bed.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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A Day Of Sunshine
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I roved to the woods, on my back I lay,
In cradle of fancy rolled me;
But there were ants, and gnats that bite,
The horse-fly was keen, the wasp showed fight.
"Dear me, don't you want to be out in this fine
weather?" --said mother, who sat on the steps and sang.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
A meadow I found, on my back I lay,
And sang what my spirit told me;
Then snakes came crawling, a fathom long,
To bask in the sun,--I fled with my song.
"In such blessed weather we can go barefoot,"--said mother,
as she pulled off her stockings.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I loosened a boat, on my back I lay,
While blithely the current bowled me;
But hot grew the sun, and peeled my nose;
Enough was enough, and to land I chose.
"Now these are just the days to make hay in,"-- said mother,
as she stuck the rake in it.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I climbed up a tree, oh, what bliss to play,
As cooling the breeze consoled me;
But worms soon fell on my neck, by chance,
And jumping, I cried: "'T is the Devil's own dance!"
"Yes, if the cows aren't sleek and shiny to-day, they'll
never be so,"--said mother, gazing up the hillside.
It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I dashed to the waterfall's endless play,
There only could peace enfold me.
The shining sun saw me drown and die,--
If you made this ditty, 't was surely not I.
"Three more such sunshine-days, and everything will
be in,"--said mother, and went to make my bed.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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The Fence
Around my yard there stands a fence
It keeps the outside world out and I safe within
Though the structure is not that immense
It does the purpose as which it was built for and meant.
Neighbors and strangers it keeps out of my yard
Along with their trash and pets which does it harm
I am my yards protector, landscaper and guard
As it is my beauty, and not a trash bin or someone's farm.
My fence allows and welcomes the sunshine and the wind
Mother nature is always welcomed to visit and roam
The squirrels and the birds are always welcomed in
And welcome are the bee's with the pollen they've sewn.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects my yard from the enemies about
Too me it makes such perfect sense
Better to stop the entering, than for me to scream and shout.
As my yard is not the playground for a child to use
Or a shortcut for many persons to walk or run
As it it my yard which I won't neglect or abuse
And the work that I do on it, it will never be done.
In the summertime there will be plants to raise
And the leaves to rake when it becomes the fall
While hoping mother nature with me will always stay
And because of my fence, it will protect it all.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects and guards my yard everyday of the year
To others though it might cause an offense
As though it tells the people, not to come over here.
It is my yard which is mine to raise it like a child
To cut it and groom it and keep it nice for all to see
But truly it is GOD'S acre, which I saved from the wild
Then through the wonder of nature, in life I do believe.
So as days will come you will see myself in my yard
And sometimes you might see me nervous and tense
I hate clutter and trash so from there it is always barred
Also to protect my yard and myself, is my mighty fence.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I Remember Once
A brisk Saturday evening,
Two weeks into September,
Memories overtaking my head
The echoes of your voice have become
A shattered mirror spread out on a thin
Layer of linen snow
Shadows surrounded us, deformed and haunting
Upon the cement, six inches deep
Scared by sticks and stones
Air frigid enough to form icicles
Swept across the yard
Draining all color from the trees outlining the yard
Two leave adjoined
Complete the blanket of fall
Gently being pulled apart
Then suddenly
The departure
Why did the wind have to blow?
So one day our families would be complete
poem by Shiny Shine
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My Father's Garden
I remember my father as being a warm person-
A strong man in many ways always working hard so that
My mother and I could have the very best-
He passed so many years ago but
I can still hear his laughter, and recall his gentleness-
As he was always there for me-
I still can see him working in his garden
At the time we lived close to the shores of Carmel –
I can still hear the leaves upon the trees rustling in the wind,
And the peaceful rocking of the ocean waves
Soothing me as they were lapping upon the shore close by-
I will never forget the joy the flowers he had planted
Brought to him, my mother and I,
As he seemed to be lost inside a world of his own,
Transforming a yard where at one time only high grasses grew
Into a kingdom of color and beauty for everyone to perceive-
I shall never forget the rose bushes-
Yellow, pink and red blossoms in their colorful hues
Enlightening to everyone’s eyes, as they were, and fragrant as well,
In all of their delicacy;
My father passed years ago- - a terminal illness snatched away
This wonderful being – tears still come to my eyes in past memories- as
I cannot comprehend that if a god exists-
How could he have snatched life away so quickly from
A person who had such a zest for life?
I shall never forget the moment he died, how my uncle
Sat upon a chair in the bathroom with his head in his hands weeping
When my father fell to the floor at his death-
Although he has parted from this world forever, fond memories continue-
People always die but flowers keep growing and live on.
Yesterday I cut a pink rose from a bush in the yard and
Placed it in a small vase upon the end table by my bed side and
As I drifted off to sleep this delicate and lovely flower carried me
Into the world of my fantasies- where my father is still with me always, and
I still feel his loving arms embracing me; I can still hear the rustling of
Leaves upon the trees outside, and I still hear the waves lapping upon the shore
And even though in flesh he is gone-
Departed from this world, he has left valuable reminiscences for me to treasure;
Whenever I stand in his garden I can still feel his presence, as in my
Heart and spirit, he shall always be very much alive….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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My Yard Sale
I felt a sadness come rushing across me
as I put the tables and signs away.
After selling saved childhood memories I've stored
discounted price tagged, at my yard sale today.
I seen a man wheel away your first bike
And remembered when daddy took your training wheels off.
You were a bit wobbly at first you rode
but then caught on and took off.
A lady had your Christening gown
and the sweater your Grandmother knit.
I don't know why you didn't want to keep it?
I thought you might too, have treasured it?
Your Halloweens first costume
you were Spider Man that year.
Everything you owned till age ten
It had to be your heros, Spider Man gear.
This sadness is overwelming
can't seem to shake it from my mind.
Childhood memories stuffed in our attic
sold at my yard sale, for a dime.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Being Alone
As I walk within my home
Room to room I walk alone
Like a nomad I do roam
And everywhere I go I am known.
I look through my books in my book shelf
Memories I do remember of Passions I felt
And once again there is no one else
As I search alone all by myself.
I sit solemnly upon my comfortable chair
I again look and no one is there
So outside my window I do stare
I wonder for myself if anyone does care.
Outside in my yard I go for a walk
And once again to myself I begin to talk
Then I have a revelation so I had to balk
Is my life but a canvas and I its chalk.
In my yard I pick up a stone
I think to myself what I have I own
And never do I whine or complain or moan
So why I think is it so bad being alone.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Junk
Motor cars, handle bars
Bicycles for two
Broken hearted jubilee
Parachutes, army boots
Sleeping bags for two
Sentimental jamboree
Buy buy
Says the sign in the shop window
Why why
Says the in junk the yard
Candlesticks, building bricks
Some old and new
Memories for you and me
Buy buy
Says the sign in the shop window
Why why
Says the in junk in the yard
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Junk
Junk
Motorcars, handlebars, bicycles for two
Brokenhearted jubilee
Parachutes, army boots, sleeping bags for two
Sentimental jamboree
Buy, buy says the sign in the shop window
Why, why says the junk in the yard
Ya da da da da la da da da
Buy, buy says the sign in the shop window
Why, why says the junk in the yard
Ya da da da da da da la la la la la
Candlesticks, building bricks,
Something old and new
Memories for you and me
Words and music by paul mccartney
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Devils Been Busy
While youre strolling down the fairway
Showing no remorse
Glowing from the poisons
Theyve sprayed on your golf course
While youre busy sinking birdies
And keeping your scorecard
The devils been busy in your back yard
Steaming down the highway
With your trucks of toxic waste
Where you gonna hide it
In the outer space?
You dont know what youre doing
Or what you have to guard
The devils been busy in your back yard
Sometimes you think youre crazy
But you know youre only mad
Sometimes youre better off not knowing
How much youve been had
You see your second cousin
Wasted in a fight
You say he had it coming
You couldnt do it right
Youre in a western movie, playing the part
The devils been busy in your back yard
Sometimes they say youre wicked
But you know that cant be bad
Sometimes youre better off not knowing
Itll only make you sad
Theyre coming down picadilly
Dripping at the dash
Wasting sticky willy
Covering him with their cash
They just might not have noticed, theyve been beating him so hard
And the devils been busy in your back yard
Devils been busy in your back yard
Devils been busy in your back yard
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories
*Whisper* Memories, Memories, Memories
In This World You Tried
Not Leaving Me Alone Behind
There's No Other Way
I'll Pray To The Gods: Let Him Stay
The Memories Ease The Pain Inside
Now I Know Why
Chorus
All Of My Memories
Keep You Near
It's All About Us
Imagine You'd Be Here
All Of My Memories
Keep You Near
The Silent Whispers
The Silent Tears
Made Me A Promise I'd Try
To Find My Way Back In This Life
I Hope There Is A Way
To Give Me A Sign You're Okay
Reminds Me Again
It's Worth It All
So I Can Go Home
Chorus
Together In All These Memories
I See Your Smile
All The Memories I Hold Dear
Darling You Know I Love You Till The End Of Time
Chorus
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories
Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories
Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories
Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories
Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories
Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours
Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too
Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories
poem by Adam McKim
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We are Seven
--------A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."
"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
poem by William Wordsworth
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Echoes of Sadness
Outside is a grave yard of leaves,
the trees are skeletal and bare.
My heart is overflowing with sorrow
since you left without a care.
I live in a distressed house of memories,
which once echoed with love throughout,
but now it’s filled with echoes of sadness
and like my happiness it’s moved out.
The rooms have a thick carpet of misery
and the furnishings wreak with despair.
The curtains are depressed and shaded
and unhappiness festers in there.
poem by Orlando Belo
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What's Left?
Outside is a grave yard of leaves,
the trees are skeletal and bare.
My heart is overflowing with sorrow
since the day you left without a care.
I live in a distressed house of memories,
which once echoed with love throughout,
but now it’s filled with echo’s of sadness
which has driven my happiness out.
The rooms have a thick carpet of misery
and the furnishings wreak with despair.
The curtains are depressed and shaded
and unhappiness festers in there.
poem by Orlando Belo
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