Tennessee girls can be a dangerous business. So, make sure you carry
a boot knife if you are determined to attend corn shuckings, kiss
Tennessee gals, and travel late at night.
- Frank Vance -
In an old country store, way back in the hills
Sits a cast iron stove for winter's chills
What tales you'd hear if this stove could speak
Of life's daily toils on high mountain peaks.
As a youngster I'd sit by that stove so black
Now memories flow in as my mind slips back
Of the lonely folks who came by that store
And told their tales of mountain lore.
Tales of love, revenge and hate
Of births, death and the Pearly Gates
You'd hear about honor, debts and pride
Of moonshine stills and life's backward slide.
You'd hear about care for friends in need
Of Sunday-go-to meetings and sinful greed
Tales about lovers, and broken hearts
Of winners, losers and lives torn apart.
Tales about winters, the snow and sleet
Of Spring in the mountains and summer's heat
You'd hear about fishing and country fairs
Of snowslides, rockslides and killer bears.
You'd hear about ghosts with mournful shrieks
Of lovers who leaped off frozen peaks
All this and more is in its keep
If only that cast iron stove could speak.
- Gracie E. Buck -