Welcome to Morning Glory. I hope you enjoy your visit.





you will need to modify above styles in stylesheet for all pages.


This is a site for homespun country poems and sayings. Most of them are by Ella Mae Driver from GORDO, AL, my mother. She loved the country.




It's a great life,

Although there's strife;

It's a great live;

When we stop to behold

The Beauty of the night unfold;

When we awake to see

The morning light so free,

When we see the morning star

Shining so marvelous afar,

When we awake to a brand new day,

And we bow our heads and pray,

When we thank our heavely Father

For his love and mercy together;

Even though there's strife -

It's a great life.



This house looks shabby, weather-beaten

And torn from the wear and tear

Of all kinds of weather through the years.

But, has shown no fears, nor cried no tears;

But has shown no fears, nor cried no tears;

Through all of this wear and tear

Down through the years.

People stopping by

For awhile ask, why

We don't tear this old house down,

And not leave it standing around;

But, this house has been a shelter

for me in all kinds of weather;

And people stopping by

Don't realize that I

Am living in a castle so tall

With high, high walls;

And that once upon a time there

Lived a king in this castle of mine,

As strange as it may seem.

The people don't see swinging

Chandeliers in the halls,

Nor famous pictures on the walls;

So the people stopping by

Don't realize that I

Am living in a castle so tall.



If they would have let me be myself;

If they had not taught me to be

Like someone else;

If they had let me speak my mind;

If they had not taught me to wait

Till another time.

If they had let me talk that day,

Then they could have known

Me better that way;

And perhaps I could be myself

And not someone else.

If they would have let me

Follow my dream,

I wonder where it would have led me,

And what would have been my destiny,

If they had listened to me.



It seems like all the farmers are talking about

Giving up on farming and selling out

To the big industrial corporations,

Without any consideration.


To help the government build bigger towns,

Schools, ballparks, swimming pools,

Airports, space ships, race tracks;

Highways and freeway for their cadillacs.


To teach children to become famous

Athietes, astronauts and robots;

To go upon the moon, Jupiter, Mars

And on to the stars.


When there are no farmers left

To till the land, to plant the seed;

Wait for the summer rain,

To help grow the golden grain;

To harvest, to take to the market,

To sell.


There soon won't be any children playing at noon;

No merchants in the store houses selling food;

Nobody to go upon the moon -

When there are no farmers left.




The beautiful red rose is well known,

The whole wide world over, I suppose;

And the Yellow Rose of Texas is

A song about a different kind of rose.

Pink is the color that was chosen

For the beautiful wild rose

That rambles on and on;

Whether it be far away or whether

It be near and about home.

But, there is a blue rose

Down in Alabama that's

Not well known;

As blue as the beautiful

Blue bird up in an apple tree

Singing its song for you and me;

And as blue as the beautiful blue

Morning Glory in the morning dew.

But, no one knows about this blue

Alabama Rose except me and you.



Roses, Roses, Roses

Roses of red, roses of yellow,

Roses of blue, reminds me

That I love you.


Roses of red, roses of yellow,

Roses of blue, roses of pink

Cause me to think;

Roses, Roses, Roses.


Roses of red, roses of yellow,

Roses of blue, roses of pink,

And roses of white means it's

Alright to give a bouquet of roses.


Roses of red, roses of yellow,

Roses of blue, roses of pink,

And roses of white

Is pure delight.


But I would choose to give to you

A bouquet of roses of blue,

Because I would be blue, too;

Without you.



I like pink buttons

And purple bows.

I like pink elephants

And little purple elves.

I like pink foxes

In purple boxes.

I like a pink belt

And a hat of felt.

And it tickles me plumb

Pink to think of pink

Buttons and purple bows,

Plumb down to my toes.



This morning when I got up from my bed;

I was feeling so sad and so blue.

I went outside and looked above my head;

And saw that the sky was so blue, too.


Then came a rabbit; hippy-hop, hippy-hop,

From across the meadow of green.

It came to a stop

And I said, "Oh! you beautiful thing".


It stood up and took a look at me.

Oh! What a beautiful scene.

My heart went flip-flop, flip-flop,

And the rabbit went hippy-hop, hippy-hop;


From my sight across the carpet of green.

Then I noticed the trees both great

And small and in-between;

With leaves of all colors of green.


Birds of red, yellow, blue and gold;

Singing sweet melodies, as happy

As could be;.

Then I bowed my head and thanked God

For the beauty He had bestowed around me;


While I slept and slumbered through the night;

For me to see when I awoke in the morning light.

For spring had come adorning with her beauty array;

When came dawning the morning for a brand new day.



Wishi had a big, big house.

Wishi had a wishing tree;

Then I would sit close by

And wish it not to fall on me.

Wishi had a car,

But not so small

So there would be room

For one and all.

Wishi had wings like a bird

So I could fly way up high,

And sail around the

Whole wide world;

Then maybe I wouldn't be

Such a lonely girl;

Sitting here today

Wishing, wishing

Wishing my life away.



The insurance man came.

The telephone rang.

The mailman came.

Down poured the rain.

Out fell the window pane;

And nothing seems the same.



Get out and walk to lose weight.

At the end of the journey

Sit down and eat cake.

For goodness sake;

That's no way to lose weight.

Instead have yourself a steak;

Then get up and wash your plate;

Til your birthday anniversary,

Then do not hesitate

To sit down and eat a bait;

Then lay yourself down to sleep;

Til you awake;

Then go out and use the yard rake;

And forget about

Eating cake.




If mice could talk

What tales they could tell.

They hide in the walls;

They hear so well.

They sneak around at night;

They need no night light;

They sniff and smell;

If mice could talk

What tales they could tell.


They sit in the corners,

Just out of sight.

They go through drawers;

They see all that we write.

They chew the phone cord

And hear ever word said;

They hide in bookcases;

They see what we have read;

They snoop so well;

If mice could talk

What tales they would tell.


If you should need a gumshoe

To check things out.

If you could hire a gray mouse;

It surely would find out.

It wouldn't need a trench coat

Nor binoculars to spy;

It wouldn't need a turn key

To be a private eye.

It has a private entrance

To where people dwell;

Oh! If mice could talk

What tales they could tell.