In the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina
I found a place to roam
and live the country girl way.
I loved that beautiful place that I called home.
From splitting wood, to digging potatoes,
loving sunrise to sunset
and discovering the taste of home grown tomatoes,
no one would leave, I’ll bet.
Blooms of flowers in the spring,
to snow and ice all winter long.
What excitement those mountains would bring,
that is the only place I belong.
Goat in the pen and chickens everywhere,
planting vegetables in my garden spot
and working hard, my life had little cares.
I loved the people and old customs a lot.
Christmas trees growing like a winter wonderland;
can’t say I’ve ever seen a place like this.
It is not hard for anyone to understand,
not one day would come and go that I didn’t miss.
Canning what you had grown to harvest,
watching children playing in the woods,
and cooking on the old wood stove was the best.
God, no one had it so good.
I left those mountains to live a city life,
thinking that going back was the right thing.
Lost a husband there, and was no man’s wife,
never knowing what loneliness it would bring.
I miss the sight of the dogwood tree,
the beauty of the meadows there.
Knowing it was a special place, all would agree,
there’s no place as wonderful, anywhere.
Going to church and picnics in the park,
sitting around the kitchen table.
Living in my country home made its mark,
cooking through the night, if I was able.
Oh, how I miss the mountains of North Carolina, USA,
forever wishing I could go back there.
I loved that country each and every day,
where people did things a city girl wouldn’t dare.
I loved my country home.