This is a little excerpt from my latest book soon to be published entitled “If Oak Trees Could Talk”
“Whether the story was really that long or if it was the southern drawl or perhaps the way Henry turned phrases was questionable, however again it didn’t much matter as it was free entertainment in a small town with not much else to do but shoot the breeze. Every day, friends, family and even a few occasional strangers would gather around the counter at Henry’s hardware store when he would begin one of his elaborate tales. They listened in anticipation of being thoroughly entertained, but not before they buried their arms down into a huge barrel full of ice-cold soda pop and bought a greasy brown paper sack of Henry’s famous hot boiled peanuts. They sipped their colas and ate their peanuts while listening to Henry and watching every lively expression! When they left the Hardware store they usually walked away from the experience having bought several hardware items that they really didn’t have need of. However, they also left his store with huge smiles on their faces and their heads shaking in disbelief as the stories got a little wilder with the telling of them!” ~Written by Christine Gilliam Hornback
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Who says they can’t talk. The question is, “Do we listen? Do we understand?”
The Oak at Fredericksburg
For Opal
Though bare and dead ten years ago,
Its branches reach out and haunt me,
Calling out in wordless prayer
That breezes turn into tunes.
Tell me, O Lord, what does it say?
Not to trade my hopes for despair;
To live by all that’s good and fair
And beg You to show me Your Way?
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