They call it that good old mountain dew, And them that refuse it are few. Well, I'll hush up my mug, if you'll fill up my jug, With that good old mountain dew. |
Rabun Library's scarecrow; reads, of course. Not so good at keeping crows out of the Old School Garden, though. |
The burning of the green wood on the fireplace
The fallen snow around the red bud trees
The branches of the laurel by the creek bed
And the rippling waters of the gentle stream
Now a bright moon is shining in the valley
An old wagon leans against a stack of hay
Two graves on a hillside by the cabin
My mom and dad are resting there today
Quilt lady puts the sales jive on Georgia . . .
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