Okie

Tyrone Graham
Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read

I’m almost there in sunny Californy
Where the fields are gold with corn,
My journey’s ending and I’m cheery,
Somehow I ain’t sorry I was born.

Riding out along this long dusty road
I don’t hear them shout out “Okie!”
I ain’t weighed down by any old load,
I’m happy as can be with my chaw of ’baccy.

Lord, I can hardly wait to see
That lovely God-blessed valley
Where rivers flow with milk and honey,
And where we’ll live, Lizzie and me.

Ain’t nothing like hope to swell a heart,
Ain’t nothing as sweet as forgetting the past,
Can’t see no pain up in these parts,
I’m looking ahead to some peace at last.

The weather’s too good to eat up crops,
Won’t be no call for any more sorrow,
Won’t be no need to work till I drop,
Won’t have to beg, or steal or borrow.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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Tyrone Graham

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In the beginning was the word. And I got paid for it.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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