woc6 – When it rains, It pours

When it rains it pours
like the salt on the sores
of the plans you made.
It stings like a thousand bees,
keepin’ pressure like a strong snake’s squeeze.
Still the rain falls harder
and it won’t let up.
Time to sink or swim
in the water and mud.
Cyrus just look up.
Cyrus just look up.

The funeral was hard, the eulogy brief,
Cyrus fought back tears and heart-wrenching grief.
She said she’d find the wretched machine and it’s creator.
And none would be able to hide from The Great Vindicator.
The prayers were said, Amazing Grace sung,
The search went on, but by a thread it hung.
A floating machine? Who could imagine such a thing?
And as they left, the church bells did ring.

When it rains it pours
like the salt on the sores
of the plans you made.
It stings like a thousand bees
keepin’ pressure like a strong snake’s squeeze.
Still the rain falls harder
and it won’t let up.
Time to sink or swim
in the water and mud
Cyrus just look up.
Cyrus just look up.

woc5 – Electric Shock

When they arrived back, the stars shined brightly, unconcealed.
They stared through the black, at something gleaming in the nearby field.
Cyrus went to check it out, but it floated up off the ground.
Connor gave a shout, and Cyrus ran at the sound.

The chase began, they ran and ran,
but Cyrus fell, and gave a yell.
Connor turned back, and jumped in the way,
but that shiny machine… took his life away.

With one electric shock, his heart began to slow to a stop.
Cyrus held him for a few, and he told her “I love you.”
Connor slipped away, and a storm came that day.
But from Cyrus’s eyes alone, came the thunder’s loud groans.
And the raindrops wailed and bemoaned…Cyrus Jones, who was all alone.

This may seem quick but I tell it that way,
to make you feel what Cyrus felt that day.
The adversity the angel promised of her,
was beginning, all in a blur.

And that’s how life tends to go.
It doesn’t dawdle. It’s not slow.
Make sure you’re ready like Connor was.
That’s the end of this poem, and now we pause.

woc4 – Smalltown Romance

Just then, down the street came the roar of a 1980’s Trans Am. Cyrus’s best friend, Connor, was pulling into their driveway.
She hadn’t seen him in months. They had only talked online, and they missed each other very much.

This is what love songs are really singin’ ’bout.
There’s never any hate, and never any doubt.
This is the person you’re meant for. It’s not by chance.
It’s nothing but a small, smalltown romance.

Years ago when Cyrus was young
a boy came to her Sunday school class.
He stole her headband to get her attention.
He said “Sorry” and they became friends fast.
Love stories like this come only in small towns
where people don’t leave each other, they stick around.
And even one day their parents knew they’d find
both of them married; they were that entwined.

This is what love songs really mean at the heart.
It begins the second you meet, right from the very start.
you’re best friends forever, even at first glance.
It’s nothing but a small, smalltown romance.

So that night when Connor came in his Trans Am
he picked up Cyrus and drove somewhere grand.
He planned on taking her to Stone Mountain
but a gas leak kept all of that from happenin’.
So instead he drove to a much smaller place,
a little neighborhood that survived by God’s grace.
a cul-de-sac on top of a large mound:
and you could see all of Atlanta from on top lookin’ down.
They had a picnic right there with fried chicken and sweet tea,
but then all of a sudden Connor said:

Connor:”Cyrus, will you marry me?”

Even down the road, when you’re talkin’ ’bout forever
You really can’t remember a time, you were never together.
So it’s really not hard, to maintain that stance.
It’s nothing but a small, smalltown romance.

Cyrus said yes, and Connor drove her back to her house.

woc3 – Progress is Knocking

But wouldn’t you know it? Right as they were eating dinner together, progress came a-knockin’.

Progress moves can’t be stopped.
Trees cut down and then they’re chopped.
Progress will never be dropped
’til this whole culture is swapped.

During dinner time with the Jones,
a knock came to the door and everyone froze.
Father Reed went to the door to open.
On the other side, was a man who was hopin?
to take their farm, take their land
and turn it into a strip mall.
He reached out to shake Reed’s hand
But he wasn’t gettin’ no “Howdy y’all?.”
In fact, he wasn’t even gettin’ a “No, sir.”
But against this man, nothing would deter,
because:

Progress moves can’t be stopped.
Trees cut down and then they’re chopped.
Progress will never be dropped
’til this whole culture is swapped.

Few words were exchanged as they’d been before.
Reed told him he wasn’t selling, then closed the door.
He explained that Phillip Keller had been wanting to buy their land
that?d been there for centuries in their clan.
But still that man plotted, but still that man planned
to one day put an end to this Southern strand.
“Phillip Keller-” Reed explained, “will never pay enough
to take this land out from under us.”

Progress moves can’t be stopped.
Trees cut down and then they’re chopped.
Progress will never be dropped
’til this whole culture is swapped.

woc2 – Home is Where The Heart Remains

Fast forward about 20 years later,
Cyrus was in college, UGA was the place there.
Summer break just a few minutes away,
she stared at that clock for what seemed like days.
And even in that crazy little town of Athens,
The pressure was too much
on a girl who raised chickens,
horses, cows, and all those crops-a-plenty.
Yeah out in Athens, Cyrus heart was empty.

The quicker she’d get there, the quicker she’d be,
back among the pine, creeks, and peachtrees.
No matter what happened, no matter what changed, one thing never did.
‘Cause home is where the heart remains.

And as she went home she saw her world a’changin.
Every time she stepped out, construction was a blazin’.
It was amazing! All the shops and malls,
offices and streets. Man, they had gall!
Cyrus thought of all this when her mind would drift
when the winds of progress would suddenly shift.
they’d leave a bigger mess than ever before
the South been slowly dyin’ since the Civil War.

The quicker she’d get there, the quicker she’d be,
back among the pine, creeks, and peachtrees.
No matter what happened, no matter what changed, one thing never did.
‘Cause home is where the heart remains.

And Even though the borders of the Jones’s home
were surrounded by the all those stores and chrome,
their 20 acres of land were glorious.
Cyrus ran inside feeling victorious.
The minute she opened the door to her home
she knew that she was no longer alone.
All of everything she felt had melted away
in the arms of her parents, tonight she’d stay.

Country roads, take me home
To a place where I belong.
Alpharetta; that’s my hometown.
Take me home, country roads.

woc1 – The Prophecy

Reed Jones was a farmer, just North of Atlanta
His wife laid sick in bed. Just picture it, can’t ya?
A baby in her womb, a storm raging outside
The lightning locked them in. The storm poured from the skies.
So Reed dropped right down to his knees,
he raised his hands high, and he begged God,

Reed: “PLEASE!
Lord! Please God, save my wife and child!”

The wind started blowing, and there came something wild
An angel stood in the room tall and erect,
and he delivered a prophecy that in truth was perfect.

He said,

Ezekiel: “Reed Jones, good and faithful servant,
Your wife will be saved from death’s dark current.
Your daughter as well, but she’ll be born with power.
All weather before her eyes will cower.
And with God’s help, she will withstand great adversity.
She will lose everything, but she will learn this homily:
If Christ is with us, who can be against us?
Your daughter, Reed Jones, will stand for justice!”

A few weeks after that, Reed’s wife birthed from brittle bones,
A daughter with brown hair, and named her Cyrus Jones.