Gray the winter wood
by Frank Lee Jennings
February 26, 2018
Gray gray the winter wood
Up valleys toward the sky
leaves all gone green all gone
from summer days gone by
they wait in silence through the cold
through long chill winter nights
as moonbeams stream to the forest floor
and horned owls make their flights
you sense they wait, tarry for spring
as stiffly there they stand
ranks and rows of companies
wooden soldiers, grayly grand
guarding mountains guarding all
the winding Valley ways
silent soldiers watching oer'
the silent winter days
hardly hardly are they seen
as far away they serve
away out on the mountain
round the valley River's curve
Oaken gray army thousands strong
bend then bow and sway
as winter winds command them
to break ranks for the day
sometimes Oaks speak plainly
for they never try and hide
about the old trees dying
all along the mountain side
old Oaks died doing duty
keeping their place in rank
watching out over the valleys
with never a word of thanks
I know they'll still be standing
straight up in their duties still
long after I've ceased watching
and have finished all His will
He's called us all to a standing
watching oer' the ranks
bending against life's fierce winds
yet ever giving thanks
so Oaks and men have this then
our common lot to stand
a call to faithful waiting
for the Master's last command
by Frank Lee Jennings
February 26, 2018
Gray gray the winter wood
Up valleys toward the sky
leaves all gone green all gone
from summer days gone by
they wait in silence through the cold
through long chill winter nights
as moonbeams stream to the forest floor
and horned owls make their flights
you sense they wait, tarry for spring
as stiffly there they stand
ranks and rows of companies
wooden soldiers, grayly grand
guarding mountains guarding all
the winding Valley ways
silent soldiers watching oer'
the silent winter days
hardly hardly are they seen
as far away they serve
away out on the mountain
round the valley River's curve
Oaken gray army thousands strong
bend then bow and sway
as winter winds command them
to break ranks for the day
sometimes Oaks speak plainly
for they never try and hide
about the old trees dying
all along the mountain side
old Oaks died doing duty
keeping their place in rank
watching out over the valleys
with never a word of thanks
I know they'll still be standing
straight up in their duties still
long after I've ceased watching
and have finished all His will
He's called us all to a standing
watching oer' the ranks
bending against life's fierce winds
yet ever giving thanks
so Oaks and men have this then
our common lot to stand
a call to faithful waiting
for the Master's last command
