Arkansas Writer: Moon over Memphis

I go down by the river.

Where we used to stroll on a Sunday afternoon.

I can see you like a vision standing by me,

As your long hair plays in the breeze.

I wonder if you think of me,

And of all the promises we made so long ago.

When you see the moon rising over Memphis ‘member me,

‘member all the times we had.

And if you’re ever sad or downhearted,

‘member me I promise I’m ‘memberin’ you.

When I walk the streets of Memphis,

I hear the blues being played every where.

Your voice seems to come to me,

As I set where we used to rendezvous.

While I play my lonesome guitar,

I sing to myself my blue song of you.

When you see the moon, rising over Memphis, ‘member me.

‘member all the times we had.

And if you’re ever sad or downhearted,

‘member me I promise I’m ‘memberin’ you.

I don’t drink anything but sweet tea.

I want to keep your memory bright and clear.

I love to hurt with every blue song.

I still love you dear always will.

Every time I see God’s moon.

It’s a sign from above it’s time to ‘member you.

When you see the moon rising over Memphis ‘member me.

‘member all the times we had.

And if you’re ever sad or downhearted,

‘member me I promise I’m ‘memberin’ you.

A. L. Shipman Jr. 12-13-2004

Arkansas Writer