the BRUSH ARBOR DAYS
by Jenny Wren

Brush Arbor Days
BY: JENNY WREN

Children, come along with me,
Going down an old memory-lane.
Unfolding this old-time memory,
Was picked from 'ELDERS 'brain.

See, the Acres of dark treetops,
By an old winding, rocky road.
Listen, to hear loud 'ax-chops',
on the many trees, now bestowed.

Listen?, a voice, here and there,
Soon the 'two-man-saws' are heard.
People busy, working everywhere,
Only, after getting the 'word'.

Brush-Arbor plans are to be made,
in this woods, now, so overgrown,
Sun will shine, instead of shade,
Soon the 'new-clearing' is shown.

On new tree-stumps, tired men rest,
As 'mind-visions' fill their eyes
Knowing: They have been blessed,
Under these blue, Tennessee skies

Arbie Howard, with His wife Bea
Gave the land for a future church.
A brush-Arbor is all ready to see.
Now, for a pastor they will search

An electric line, soon is in place
now strung out from Arba's own home
"A-mens" filling each nook and space
As the 'new-Light' upon them shone.

Tree Limb a-sway with shiny leaves
wind swaggering, them in and out,
Moon-light is now, filtered by trees,
"Yes!" All Creation, seems to shout.

Saw-dust, for flooring is brought,
seats made from 'block and board'.
An altar where God, is being sought,
Know Salvation is from THE LORD.

An Arbor's ready, now in prayer,
Soon a new pastor came so bold
"God has sent me, over here,
A 'REVIVAL' I was told to hold! "

IT 'was' the year of Forty-nine,
From Those 'Cottage-Meeting days'
As House-to-house, ladies bind,
together in their homes, to pray

The church made from brush-arbor,
born beneath the tall-oak-trees.
Many souls now, find safe-harbor,
at an altar while on bended knees.

Next came this tar-paper 'hall',
A quilt hangs up, becomes a door.
A pot-belly stove, heating all,
filling it with warmth and more.

Our new building, made of block,
grew, then has grown, some more
Our Elders, who have taken stock,
in their own heirs, that they bore

Leave behind 'seeds,' they've sown,
Leaving the church, in loving hands
Vision is growing, now almost grown,
The Oak-Grove Church, now stands.

I myself, have watched it grow,
It is a miracle, in so many ways
Since Eighty-six, "Yes, this I know,
I Thank God for 'Brush Arbor' days……"

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© Copyright 2004 jennywren