Piping Me Home

Piping Me Home

by Frankie Blodgett


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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781496929266
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 07/31/2014
Pages: 154
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.33(d)

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Piping Me Home

By Frankie Blodgett

AuthorHouse LLC

Copyright © 2014 Frankie Blodgett
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4969-2926-6


Poems of My Youth


    I recall the smell of creosote
    Emanating from the railroad ties;
    With the mingling whiff of steam and smoke,
    As the ole steam engine chugged on by.

    The sound of its lonesome whistle,
    Wailing out a hobo tune, which
    Sticks in my soul like a thistle;
    Tears at my heart as a wound.

    The shimmering mirage of a ghostly train,
    A spirit which transcends all time;
    The memory of its spell ne'er wanes,
    An image etched eternally in my mind.

    The clickity-clack of the railway tracks
    As the cars pass o'er each seam;
    Still lures my mind, forever back,
    To a life reminiscent of a dream.

    So lay me down near the railway tracks;
    Forever I'll hear that ole whistle wail.
    My spirit will rise to each clickity-clack
    And each passing train: I shall hail!!!


    On the rail
    Western mail
    Right on time
    All is fine.

    At a crossing
    Rails blocking
    'W' showing
    Whistle blowing.

    Sounding 'Q'
    Loud and true
    Before the crash
    One last blast


    Living along the Chenango,
    A riparian delight;
    Her eternal flowing waters,
    Fueled my propensity for life.

    Her quaint old bridges and trestles,
    Graciously reflect a bygone era;
    An age when life moved lazily;
    At times, seemingly without a care.

    My childhood on the Chenango,
    Reminiscent of 'Tom and Huck's',
    Complete with rafts and fishing;
    I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks.

    The hours spent screening for Dobson
    Or chasing crayfish 'round the rocks';
    Diving into the ole swimming hole
    Fishing from bridges, shore and docks.

    Once there existed an old canal,
    A small stretch could still be found,
    Complete with a lock and towpath,
    At 'The Forks', just north of town.

    The green algae filled water,
    Teemed with aquatic life,
    Turtles, newts and pollywogs;
    Truly a young boy's delight.

    However, that was o'er fifty years ago;
    Life has relocated me far away;
    My mind oft wanders lovingly back
    To her banks, even yet today.

    One day soon, I plan to return
    When my days are at their end;
    My spirit will recapture the felicity
    Of my dear Chenango once again.




    Where the endless water is the sea,
    A salty mariner, there shall be,
    Ever adrift on the foamy brine,
    Sailing forever; till the end of time.

    Where the earth becomes the vast blue sky
    A fearless aviator there shall fly,
    Soaring freely among the clouds,
    High above the maddening crowds.

    Where the wilderness escapes the town,
    A brave adventurer shall be found,
    Scouting out Gods wild frontier,
    Living freely amongst bear and deer.

    Where the soul meets with boundless freedom,
    That will be in: 'NATURES KINGDOM'
    Eternally free to roam, sail and soar:
    A brave spirit free for ever more!


    Adventuring a hike on a moonless night,
    Can take your senses to incredible heights;
    Earthly features are of little value,
    Nothing recognizable can you follow.

    Haunts and shadows line your travel;
    With bearings lost, your wits unravel;
    Don't panic as a helpless dove;
    Just turn your eyes to the stars above.

    Merak and Dubhe point the way.
    Ensuring from your course, you'll never stray;
    But avoid getting lost in the dragon's tail,
    For Polaris can appear somewhat pale.

    Knowledge of the heavens is the key,
    To keep your mind ever worry free;
    So if you hike on a moonless night,
    Always keep the stars within your sight.


    The silence of a sylvan eve,
    A fallacy believed by most;
    Yet in weather fair or stormy,
    Peal forth sounds t'would scare a ghost.

    The eerie hoot of an ole owl,
    Silhouetted against the moon;
    From its perch high in a long leaf pine;
    Blares out its ever spectral tune.

    The bellowing of a bull frog,
    As it echoes from a pristine pond;
    This Rena's deep resonant croak,
    Booms thru the forest and beyond.

    The blatting of the nighthawk,
    As it darts about in flight;
    It's deafening bull-batic blasts,
    Rock the silence of the night.

    The male droning of the cicada,
    From the surrounding trees and thickets;
    Accompanied with a background chorus,
    Of peepers, cooing dove and crickets.

    When the night sky's lit by lightning;
    With the thunders rumbling roar:
    Even the world's greatest composers,
    Could never equal such a score!


    A gentle breeze murmurs as on wings,
    Softly sighing as it maunders along;
    Upon a porch a wind chime sings,
    Natures soothing harmonic song.

    The distant call of a waterfall,
    As it cascades down a mountain side;
    With the thunderous roar from the canyon floor,
    As the wild waters with rocks collide.

    The soft purl of a peaceful rill,
    As it meanders lost in time,
    Trickles softly down a gentle hill;
    Whispering out an age old rhyme.

    The euphoric murmur of the doves coo,
    Serenely warbles throughout the wood,
    Instantly removing all the city blues,
    As well as anything in Nature could.

    The soft tap of the gentle rain,
    As it greets the leafy forest floor;
    Till the mighty wind takes the reins;
    The rain drives and the thunder roars.

    May Natures thunder eternally roll?
    And the ground dove forever coo;
    Then future generations will e'er know;
    The glorious sounds of Nature: that we knew!


    Dusk, the Omega, the end of day,
    When shadows dance in the suns last ray;
    Twilight deepens into its darkest hue
    And the night birds sing, as if on cue.

    Hungry bats swoop in the dusky sky;
    The nightingale sings his lullaby;
    A morph begins in the diurnal world;
    The nocturnal realm has now unfurled.

    In the gloom of this darkened time,
    My fretting mind oft begins to pine
    O'er the raison d'etre of my being
    And if I'm grasping life's true meaning.

    Yet, the slow dance of the fading light
    Doth ease the gloaming into night;
    Joyously, I'm sure, when night is done,
    A new day dawns with the rising sun!


    Dawn, the Genesis, the beginning of day
    An earthly juvenescence, a constant replay;
    The suns golden rays, Gods outstretched hands
    Bring an exhilarating rebirth over the land.

    A heralding glow in the eastern sky
    Assures a sleepy world that day is nigh;
    The radiant stars in their dark realm above
    Are quickened away by the morning sun.

    As above the horizon the sun doth peek;
    The world awakens from a lifeless sleep;
    With the rays of light setting the world aglow
    Yet, it's the timeless sun that steals the show.

    A rising blue mist o'er an emerald sea
    From the conquering sun doth rapidly flee;
    Ole' Sols reflection on the shimmering swells;
    From the shadows of night, my fear is quelled.


    At the north end of Amelia,
    Where the waters of three rivers blend,
    Lies Florida's best kept secret,
    As a vacation spot, a ten.

    Where the blue Atlantic waters
    Kiss Amelia's silver sands,
    An Eden so uniquely designed;
    Truly the work of God's great hands.

    Where stands of golden sea oats
    Wave cheerfully to the sea,
    From peaceful rolling sand dunes;
    A view, so wild, so free.

    Where golden rays of sunlight
    Pierce the grand canopy above,
    Illuminating the morning mist;
    As if a spotlight of God's love.

    Where in glorious vivid sunsets,
    Your dreamy eyes catch a world aglow;
    While capturing an outbound trawler,
    On Amelia's pristine tidal flow

    This euphoric destination,
    This truly wondrous landmark;
    Fort Clinch, as she's referred to,
    Is the gem of Florida Parks!


    At the north end of Amelia
    Where the waters of three rivers blend,
    Lies Florida's best kept secret,
    As a vacation spot, a ten.

    Where the blue Atlantic Waters
    Kiss Amelia's silver sands,
    An Eden so uniquely designed,
    Truly the work of God's great hands.

    Where stands of golden sea oats
    Wave cheerfully to the sea
    From peaceful rolling sand dunes,
    A view; so wild, so free!

    Where golden rays of sunlight
    Pierce the grand canopy above,
    Illuminating the morning mist
    As a spotlight of God's love.

    This euphoric destination,
    This truly wondrous land mark;
    Fort Clinch as she's
    Is the gem of Florida Parks!

    Silhouetted against the morning sky
    Boldly stands the namesake of the park
    Fort Clinch in all her historic splendor,
    A glorious adventure to embark.

    With her cannons pointed seaward,
    Reenactors filling every post,
    The eighteen-sixties come alive
    In the jewel of Florida's coast.

    Your mind slips back in history,
    Then your eyes, you begin to rub
    For behind a sentry on the wall
    Passes a nuclear-powered sub.

    The sub will pass a fishing pier,
    One of the grandest in the nation;
    A picturesque observation point
    And awesome fishing destination.

    The park has two popular campgrounds,
    Each as different as night and day;
    Both with extraordinary qualities,
    Each designed in their own unique way.

    Nestled below an oaken canopy
    With a peaceful view of the sound,
    Each site buffered with sabal palms;
    Rests the cozy River Campground.

    Where groups gather 'round their fires,
    While tasty camp foods are prepared,
    The joy of smoors or marshmallows
    With friends and family shared.

    Where in glorious vivid sunsets
    Your dreamy eyes catch a world aglow,
    While capturing an outbound trawler
    On Amelia's pristine tidal flow.

    In stark contrast, in brilliant sun
    The Beach Campground views an aqua sea,
    With spacious sites, under starry skies;
    Your spirit becomes so alive and free.

    You may stroll down to the water,
    Feel the east wind in your face,
    Take a deep breath of pure sea air,
    Feel your excited heart begin to race.

    Gently place your towel upon the sand
    Lie in Florida's tanning rays;
    Then have an exhilarating swim
    In the Atlantic's cooling waves.

    While on the beach, try shelling
    You can collect them by the pail;
    While for the bikers and the hikers
    There are miles of roads and trails.

    Visit the picnic area and playground,
    The grand museum and gift shop;
    Then tour old Fernandina,
    For out the gate it's just a hop.

    This quaint historic village
    Will make your trip complete;
    When taking in its Shrimp Festival
    And the blessing of the fleet.

    So when traveling down to Florida
    Your trip will be a sensation;
    If you make ole Fort Clinch
    Your vacation destination.


    I ventured out for a peaceful drive;
    I must have crashed, I must have died;
    For I found myself at heaven's gate;
    The streets of gold were colored slate.

    No host of angels, did I see;
    A uniformed sentry greeted me;
    He waved me in and smiled hello;
    He had no wings and no halo.

    Lining the streets was glorious greenery,
    Huge pine trees, majestic scenery;
    Turkey and deer roamed at leisure;
    Scurrying squirrels took a breather.

    The rare fox squirrel made an appearance
    Free to live without interference;
    Pocket gophers lived under mounds,
    Seldom appearing above the ground.

    I came upon cabins and great campgrounds
    With joyous campers all around
    Soon I arrived at a picnic area;
    People there were even merrier.

    The entire scene gave me a thrill;
    Happy families around their grills
    Dads grilling up their steaks,
    Children swimming in the lake.

    People jogging, people biking,
    People canoeing, people hiking;
    Everyone enjoying life with a passion;
    This was the heaven, I'd imagined!

    Suddenly I crashed back to reality;
    I hadn't become a fatality;
    I hadn't crashed, I hadn't died,
    I hadn't passed to the other side.

    I had entered a heaven on Earth;
    My soul had undergone rebirth:
    But the time was late and growing dark;
    So I had to leave GOLD HEAD BRANCH STATE PARK!


Excerpted from Piping Me Home by Frankie Blodgett. Copyright © 2014 Frankie Blodgett. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents


My Dachshund, xi,
Acknowledgments, xiii,
Introduction, xv,
CHAPTER 1 Poems of My Youth, 1,
CHAPTER 2 Nature, 7,
CHAPTER 3 The Sea, 31,
CHAPTER FOUR My Navy Years, 67,
CHAPTER SIX Free Spirit, 83,
CHAPTER SEVEN Winds of Change, 87,
CHAPTER EIGHT Piping Me Home, 99,
CHAPTER NINE Just For Fun, 123,
About the Author, 137,

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