By Alex   

The pioneers did cry
In the slumbering valleys,
Peering high at blue crowns
Breathing soft midnight fog upon them.
Cool streams and falls
Whisper down throne’s toes
And pour into the plains
Under skies of thunderous applause.
Long and wide
Zag the fields of summer snow
Between the mighty kingdoms
Of souls and songs.
How far you must go
When you follow the sleeping giant
With limestone back
And rolling green stomach.
Tis at giant’s head
Where the pioneers drank.
Some laid down their sacks,
Others crossed the murky monster.
Many who stayed
Found peace and love.
Many still hum their hymns
Under soil soaked with war.
Many found strife
From their blistered black hands
Yet guiding winds from God
Blew down their marching roads.
Now there is to most
A truly wondrous grace
In loving homes and chapels
Behind the echos of trains.
What a place to behold
So the pioneers learned.
With their souls in mine,
I sing “What a home!”

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Key Words : Tennessee

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Tennessee is the only home for me as it has been for so many others.