Posts Tagged luther benjamin stringer

I Stood In the Doorway

I’ve written many stories and poems about my grandpa, “Bunk” Stringer (we called him Pa), and I’ll surely write many more. The following poem is based on a story I wrote about him several years ago. Read the rest of this entry »

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One Hell of a Ride

“Pa”, that’s what we called him, Luther “Bunk” Stringer, was a wonderful grandpa. His life, in my opinion, was one of historic note, and his story deserves to be told and remembered. He was by far the best man I ever knew and he was my hero. If I am one day considered to be even half the man Bunk Stringer was, I, too, will have had one hell of a ride. 

One Hell of a Ride

 

Come over here and sit for a spell

Lend an ear, I’ll give it a bend

I’ve been known to tell a tale or two

Of things that were, or might have been

 

With words I’ll paint a picture of days

When I was young and I was lean

Of days I sat tall in the saddle

Long ago when just a teen

 

I’ll tell of the time I met a girl

Who made me blush and act the fool

The most beautiful girl in Texas

Was no mistake they called her Jewel

 

I’ll tell you about the sunlit days

                              Out on the north Texas plains

Where I chased the steers that wandered

                                 ‘cross the hot mesquite filled range

 

I’ll tell of how I sat atop my mount

         On a hill as I pondered and dreamed

             Dreams of what lay beyond the hills

                   Far places I’d never been

 

I’ll tell you ‘bout some of those places

For a bit of traveling I have done

                                Oh, I wandered from ocean to ocean

                              In pursuit of that brighter sun

 

     But all roads lead me back here

                         Now I’ve lost the lust to roam

And so you find me here on this porch

       In Texas, my home sweet home

 

No, I don’t have much to show

                               For the eighty some years I’ve lived

For I lived hard and I loved hard

                            I gave this world all I had to give

 

But cry not when you look upon

             The few things I leave behind

My life was full of love and laughter

            And I had one hell of a ride

 

Copyright © 1996 C. Mashburn

 

Please check out my newest book JUST A MAN! A book of encouragement!

And here’s another good one, JUST A BOY! A childhood memoir.

 

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Just One Rose

For the Poetics feature today at dVerse Poets Pub, Brian has requested poems about history. I love history, and I can think of many famous men worthy of a poem, but none had the impact on me that the one the following poem was written for. When my beloved grandpa passed on I was unable to attend the funeral, and so I sent a vase with one rose in it and this poem. One of the family framed the poem and set it beside the rose; both were next to him during the service. I hope you enjoy the poem. Read the rest of this entry »

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One Hell of a Ride

Victoria Slotto is hosting a feature for dVerse Poets tonight entitled Meeting the Bar: Heroes and Heroines, and asks us to consider writing a poem in praise of a present-day hero, someone who has made a difference in our own life, or in our own times. I cannot pass up the chance to submit one of my all time favorite poems about my grandpa, Luther “Bunk” Stringer, whose life, in my opinion, was one of historic note, and whose story deserves to be told and remembered. He was the best man I ever knew–by far–and he was my hero. If I am one day considered to be even half the man Bunk Stringer was, I, too, will have had one hell of a ride.

I wrote the following poem shortly after my grandpa’s passing, and it is to his memory I post it once more: Read the rest of this entry »

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One Hell of a Ride

This week the prompt for Jingle Poetry’s  Poetry Potluck #47 is “history and stories”. This poem is a brief synopsis of the life of my grandpa, Luther “Bunk” Stringer, whose life, in my opinion, was one of historic note, and whose story deserves to be told and remembered. He was the best man I ever knew–by far–and he was my hero. If I am one day considered to be even half the man Bunk Stringer was, I, too, will have had one hell of a ride.

I wrote the following poem shortly after my grandpa’s passing, and it is to his memory I post it now: Read the rest of this entry »

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The Bible in the Picture

As most of you know, I published a book of daily devotionals (I prefer to call them daily encouragements) in 2010, and my Mom’s picture is on the cover. I published Be Still primarily as a tribute to, and a gift for, Mom, because she’s one of the main reasons I write encouragements and share them with friends and family. Not to mention, her prayers—all my life—have held me within shouting distance of the path God would have me walk. Read the rest of this entry »

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Just One Rose

I know I said it was all grade school Tuesday, but I’ve been waiting for a chance to put this one on Poetry Potluck, and just realized this is the perfect opportunity. One of the themes this week is “sorrow”, and this was written in one of my times of deepest sorrow. My beloved grandpa, had passed on, and unable to attend the funeral, I sent a vase with one rose in it and this poem. One of the family framed the poem and set it beside the rose; both were next to him during the service. I hope you enjoy the poem. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Band Of Angels

This morning, my uncle, Sid Newberry, will be laid to rest. Some of you are probably weary of my expounding on the situation, and if so, please accept my apologies. But, this has caused many thoughts to stir, and I am not one to keep them to myself. My hope is that when I share these thoughts and feelings with you, they might help you to better understand, and cope with, the struggles of this life we live. Read the rest of this entry »

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Behind The Clouds

Twice I’ve stood in the same doorway and said goodbye to someone who’d been an important part of my life. The first time it was my beloved grandpa, Luther “Pa” Stringer that lay in the bed staring up at me with bright yet aged eyes. The second time it was my precious Uncle Sid, but on both occasions it seemed I was looking into the same set of eyes. I believe I was. Read the rest of this entry »

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One Hell of a Ride

A site where I’ve been posting some of my poems is having a contest wherein you are to write a short story or poem about this picture of John Wayne. John Wayne was one of my heros, because he was always the good guy, and he wanted things to be fair. I didn’t know John Wayne; I didn’t even know much about him, other than the characters he portrayed in movies, but I think he was a good man.

A man I did know, and a man who was my real-life John Wayne, was my grandpa, Luther “Bunk” Stringer. He was the best man I ever knew–by far–and he was my hero. If I was half the man Bunk Stringer was, I could sit tall in the saddle.

Bluebell Books

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