Monday, August 14, 2017

Monday's Poetry: "Gentle on My Mind"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Music superstar Glen Campbell passed away this past week.   Campbell, the son of an Arkansas sharecropper, had a distinctive voice that weaved its way though country and pop music for several decades.  The day after Campbell's passing, I asked Alexa to play some of his music - and I was literally entertained for hours with many wonderful songs recorded by Glen Campbell.

One of the songs that I liked best was the iconic "Gentle on My Mind," a beautiful work that was written by John Hartford.   (Hartford, himself a distinctive singer and musician, said that he wrote the piece in about fifteen minutes shortly after watching the movie, Dr. Zhivago.)  Many artists went on to record "Gentle on My Mind," but it was the version by Glen Campbell that most of us remember and love.

Please enjoy its message of undying love one more time.


Gentle on My Mind
by John Hartford

It's knowin' that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to leave my sleepin' bag rolled up
And stashed behind your couch

And it's knowin' I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some lines
That keeps you in the back roads
By the rivers of my memory and keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It's not clingin' to the rocks and ivy
Planted on their columns now that bind me
Or somethin' that somebody said because
They thought we fit together walkin'

It's just knowin' that the world will not be cursin' or forgivin'
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads
By the rivers of my memory and for hours you're just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the coal mines and the junkyards
And the highways come between us
And some other woman's cryin' to her mother
'Cause she turned and I was gone

I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
And the summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see
You walkin' on the back roads by the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup
Back from some gurglin', cracklin' cauldron in some train yard
My beard a roughenin' coal pile
And a dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands 'round a tin can
I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you're wavin' from the back roads
By the rivers of my memory ever smilin', ever gentle on my mind

1 comment:

Don said...

There was a time when life was hard and nothing mattered --- except that song. Thanks for reminding me.