A Season To Rest


Lord have mercy on them
The ones I left below
To ease their pain,
Let them understand
This fact that they should know.

Tell them if I could not walk
'mid my forests green and tall,
That I prayed to you, I'd rather
Not walk anywhere at all.

They all know how I loved the
Wooded land, land of my birth.
And, as sure as there's a Heaven,
I had a taste of it on earth.

In the blessed holy season
When these lands were white with snow.
It probably seemed real sad to them
That it was then I had to go.

If they only heard the message
From St. Peter at the Gate.
As he opened up the pearly doors,
"It's your time to hibernate."

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