Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son

  • Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son

    They lived up near the hills.
    When he went to tend his sheep
    He  gazed down on cotton mills.

    The rivers ran with water pure
    And so provided power
    Yet over these dark ruined towns
    The heathered hills did tower.

    Mary was a local girl
    She walked out on the moors
    She wore a dress of silky cloth
    Printed with tiny flowers.

    John Joe saw Mary dear
    When he was dipping sheep
    She peered over a dry stone wall
    And saw the new lambs leap.

    Her hair was long.Her hair was gold
    Her eyes singularly blue.
    In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair,
    What was a man to do?

    He watched her walking all alone
    Was she sad or sick?
    He showed her how his dog behaved
    He showed her shepherds’ tricks.

    Then one day,he held her hand
    As they walked to the Pike.
    They stood up there and gazed all round
    So John thought he would strike.

    He bent down on his right knee
    And spoke to Mary then.
    I’ve loved you ,Mary, since we met
    I hoped we’d meet again

    Mary smiled with her blue eyes;
    Her lips were pink and bright.
    I love you too and love the hills
    And. love the summer light.

    The next year they were married
    Mary wore white lace.
    She looked so happy then
    To know she’d her own place.

    The church bells rang,the people sang
    John and Mary wed!
    And naturally, when evening came,
    At last they went to bed.

    When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms
    She knew this was her home.
    And so for many. many years
    On those loved  hills they roamed.

    They cared for sheep and hens and goats
    They cared for children three.
    They never had a falling out
    But talked beneath a tree.

    From youth to age the years went by
    But John still loved his bride.
    And Mary too was happy
    With John Joe by her side.

    Their faces,lined, were full of cheer
    Their hair as white as snow
    And everywhere that JJ went
    Mary too did go.

    Until the day came for his death,
    He lay down in the grass.
    Mary ran and held him close
    And thus dear John did pass.

    The muffled bells rang from the tower
    John Joe was carried in.
    The parson prayed and hymns were sung.
    The sheep dog made a din.

    In the dark earth John was laid
    While Mary wept and cried.
    What will I do ,my  own sweet John ,
    without you by my side?

    So Mary grieved and wept and sighed
    And thus she spent two   years…
    The loss was great and bent her back
    with the weight of care.

    For when we open up our hearts
    We feel both joy and woe.
    This is the pattern of our love,
    Which like  a river flows.

     

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