Scraps On The Table

The Arkansas hills was where I grew up.

I’d run through the woods with my hound dog pup.

When I’d get back home my momma would say,

“Scraps on the table. That’s all for today.”

Scraps on the table. Beans in the pot.

A little cornbread that’s far from hot.

How happy I was to be there on those days.

Scraps on the table with a love that stays.

Set at the table, but set up real straight.

That’s what mom still says as she puts down my plate.

Milk’s in our glasses. Sorghum’s in a jar.

It’s been too hot for a cooking fire.

Scraps on the table.  Beans in the pot.

A little cornbread that’s far from hot.

How happy I am to be here on this day.

Scraps on the table with love that will stay.

Mom says there weren’t much to build a fire for.

It’s been a long time since she’us at the store.

But I’m happy to be eating fried taters cold

with mom and dad; they’re both getting old.

Scraps on the table.  Beans in the pot.

A little cornbread that’s far from hot.

How happy I am to be here on this day.

Scraps on the table with love that will stay.

How happy I am to be here on this day.

Scraps on the table with love that will stay.

I’ve loved it each time that I’ve been told,

“Scraps on the table, but our love’s far from cold.”

Scraps on the table. Beans in the pot.

A little cornbread that’s far from hot.

How happy I am to be here on this day.

Scraps on the table with love that will stay.

Scraps on the table with a love that will stay.

© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.

Beaches

                        I look out over the ocean as I stand here on this shore

and dream of the beaches I long to see once more.

Beaches. Beautiful beaches.

 You were there calling me to your shore.

I was a shipman tossed about

 on the wild ocean of life.

Then I found beaches

where I longed to stay,

 more than just a day,

with beaches.

 Beautiful beaches.

I may never see you again
nor hear your speech in flight,

but I’ll remember you
while in the pale moon's light.

I will long for your sweet fragrance
 as I walk and set alone,

where we once walked and set,
 then I’ll wonder where you’ve gone.

I’d like to thank you for the inspiration.

Thank you for the song you put in my heart.

Thank you for life when I thought I was dead.

Thank you for the fire that's still warms my soul.

Thank you for the treasures that keep me from the cold.

Beaches. Beautiful beaches.

You where there calling me to your shore.

I was a shipman tossed about

 on the wild ocean of life.

Then I found beaches

where I longed to stay,

more than just a day,

with beaches.

 Beautiful beaches.

With beaches. Beautiful beaches.

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See The Picture On The Wall

See the picture on the wall.

It makes me smile as I recall,

when I used to kiss  those alluring lips.

The way we would walk hand in hand

by the spring in golden sand,

and planed to live our lives in love.

She’d sing, “I love you. I really do-o.

Your eyes, they thrill me through and through.

I will be yours for all of time.

To need you this much must be a crime.

Now that picture on the wall

builds me up then comes the fall.

For you see it’s all that I have left.

I still hear the things she said.

I’ll obey her until I’m dead.

She said, “‘member all the times we had.”

She’d sing,“ I love you. I really do-o.

Your eyes, they thrill me through and through.

I will be yours for all of time.

To need you this much must be a crime.

Well that picture on the wall.

May it never ever fall.

I need to see her everyday.

I will love her to the end.

I shall always be her friend.

She can come back anytime to me.

And sing, “I love you, I really do-o.

Your eyes, they thrill me through and through.

I will be yours for all of time.

To need you this much must be a crime.

For me to need you this much, this long, must be a crime.

See the picture on the wall.

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Using Your Memory

You’re just a memory I’d love to see.

You had the kind of face I’d love to retrace.

And your tenderness makes me long for you still.

Using your memory to write a song.

I’m using your memory to write a song.

One that will make me cry all night long.

Gonna be about a love so strong, but now your gone.

Using your memory to write a song.

You had the kind of eyes that told no lies.

You had the kind of kiss makes me reminisce.

And your fingertips seem to touch me still.

Using your memory to write a song.

I'm using your memory to write a song.

One that will make me cry all night long.

Gonna be about a love so strong, but now your gone.

Using your memory to write a song.

You had the kind of hair that made men stare.

You had the kind of walk that made them talk.

And your perfect form makes us dream of you still.

Using your memory to write a song.

I’m using your memory to write a song.

One that will make me cry all night long.

Gonna be about a love so strong, but now your gone.

Using your memory to write a song.

Using your memory to write a song.

As your soft sweet voice seems to call to me still.

Using your memory to write a song.

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There is more to Happiness

There is more to happiness than just a smile.
There is more to laughter than just a sound.
There is more to love than just a feeling.
There is more to the world than just being round.

Look for more than what you first see, hear, feel and believe.
There is always more.

There is more to the ocean than just water and salt.
There is more to the earth than just dirt and sand.
There is more to the mountains than just rock.
There is more to the air than we will ever understand.

Look for more than what you first taste, touch, caress and conceive.
There is always more.

There is more to school than just being there.
There is more to a job than just the pay.
There is more to helping than saying, "I will."
There is more to a vacation than just getting away.

Look for more than a place, reward, a promise or going.
There is always more.

There is more to worship than sitting in a pew.
There is more to hoping than nothing to do.
There is more to following than not turning away.
There is more to beliving than just saying, "Me too."

Look for more than just sitting,waiting, going along and blending in.
There is always more.


















Look for more and you may find Happiness is being content that you have always done all you could to find  the beauty in what has come your way as you looked for more to love.






A. L. Shipman Jr.
6-21-2011

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Buffalo River Blues

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

I go down to Buffalo River, sing away my misery.

She won’t fix me grits and fried taters too.

No, she won’t fix me grits and fried taters too.

She says, “If that’s what you want then I ant the one for you.”

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

I go down to Buffalo River sing away my misery.

I bought her a Chrysler and a Cadillac.

I bought her a Chrysler and a Cadillac.

But she wanted a Lincoln just to sit out in the back.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

I go down to Buffalo River sing away my misery.

Baby I sure like your long silky hair.

I said, “Baby I sure like your long silky hair.”

She came home next day. Had it all cut off of there.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

My baby don’t like the blues so she gives them to me.

I go down to Buffalo River sing away my misery.

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Her Daddy Liked Chryslers

Her daddy liked Chryslers, that’s all he would buy.

Drove an old Dodge truck, bought new in 55.

Her momma drove a New Yorker. Blue with a black vinyl top.

When my gal turned sixteen, she asked for her very own car.

But he said no to a Mustang. No to a hot Cougar cat.

“No way”, to a Thunderbird, or a blue Corvette.

So she asked for a Barracuda.

Got a fabulous Fury instead.

She got a Plymouth. 1966.

Had a three eighteen.

Automatic column shift.

It was a light tan, four-door, ferryboat, he said keep it slick.

The highway was our ocean; dirt roads were our rough seas.

The old hometown streets were whatever we pleased.

She knew how to drive that Plymouth. Got the wind in its sails.

Always took this shipman, to my favorite shores.

She drove a Plymouth. 1966.

Had a three eighteen,

Automatic column shift.

It was a light tan, four-door ferryboat. I helped keep it slack.

A new guy came to town in a big yellow Cadillac.

I didn’t even own a car, how could I compete with that.

But I put up a mighty good fight; her daddy was on my side.

Her momma said, “Don’t quit”. Her little brother, he threw a fit.

?   (INSTRUMENTAL.) ?

They ran off and got married, way out in Oklahoma.

I don’t know if she ever looked back.

But one good thing about it, Her daddy never, let her take that Car.

I bought her Plymouth. That old 1966.

It’s got a 318, automatic column shift.

It’s a light tan, four-door, ferryboat, I Still keep it Slick.

Still cruisin’ in her Plymouth.  That sweet smellin’ Plymouth.

Fabulous fury, ferryboat,

It’s a car I’ll never sale.

I named it Barbara Gail,

Always gives me sweet dreams, never does fail,

Still cruising in her Plymouth, That sweet smelling Plymouth.

Fabulous fury, ferryboat, still love her Plymouth,

That old 1966-6-6.  66!

Yea.

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Got To Hurt

I’d love to write songs of joy.

Songs about sweet happiness.

But it’s said mine just don’t have

the strong feelings that they need.

Some say you’ve got to live through

all the things you write about,

so now I write them old sad songs

about a love that’s long gone.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can feel the pain.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can know the strain.

Of living life without a love that was so dear.

So I wrote a song of grief.

One about when I lost you.

How we seemed so very close

but you just drifted away.

How I long for your tender touch.

For your warm embrace.

And for another long kiss

from lips I never kissed enough.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can feel the pain.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can know the strain.

Of living life without a love that was so dear.

With the first sad one I wrote

all my songs began to sell.

They loved it when I described

all the pain that I’d gone through.

They related to the strain

of loving you, but you’re gone.

Every time I dream of you

I write another sad song.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can feel the pain.

All the pain.

I’ve got to hurt over someone so I can know the strain.

Lonely strain.

Of living life without, Life without,

a love that was so dear

to my heart.

To my heart.

My broken heart.

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Memphis I Still Love You

There’s a place that I know, where all the Blues Men go.

It’s a town that can be cruel. It’s a place makes a fool.

But when it’s said and done, she’s still a lot of fun.

Like a girl I once knew. Yes I still love her too.

Memphis I still love you. Memphis my love is true.

Memphis I need your touch. Memphis miss you so much.

Memphis what can I do, to make you love me too?

Memphis I still love you. Memphis my love, my love will do anything for you.

Met me at rendezvous. That’s where our love was new.

I will always be true. I’ll never make you blue.

Come on girl take my hand. I long to be your man.

Memphis I still love you. Memphis my love, my love will do anything for you.

Memphis I still love you. Memphis, my love this true.

Memphis I can’t let go. Your eyes they haunt me so.

I long to hear you say. “Come on back here to stay.”

Memphis I still love you. Memphis, my love, my love will do, anything for you.

Memphis I still, love you.

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Not In A While

I’d just pulled into town. Been gone for three years.

Saw my old friend Mike. We’d shared laughter, dreams and fears.

Only one thing came between us, in all our growing days.

It was a girl from long ago. How strange are loves true ways.

We talked of how the years, had changed so many things.

Then he asked me, “Have you seen Judy?”

I grinned and said, “Not in a while.”

We said, “So long for now.” I turned away with a sad smile.

Not in a while have I seen those, deep dark eyes look at me.

Not in a while have I heard her, speak my name loud and plain.

Not in a while have I touched, the soft palms of her hands.

If someone asks me, “Have you seen Judy?” I just say,  “Not in a while.”

A couple of days later, I saw Sharon on the square.

She was a girl I dated. Loved her smile and golden hair.

She always picked me up, when Judy let me down.

But I ran back to Judy when she’d say, “Come around.”

Saw the fire blaze in those eyes, while it passed through her mind.

As she asked me, “Have you seen Judy?”

I shrugged and said, “Not in a while.”

She smiled, said, “Check you later.” I turned away with a sad smile.

Not in a while have I seen those, deep dark eyes look at me.

Not in a while have I heard her, speak my name loud and plain.

Not in a while have I touched, the soft palms of her hands.

If someone asks me, “Have you seen Judy?” I just say,  “Not in a while.”

Saw my favorite high school teacher, just the other day.

I was standing in line, at the grocery store to pay.

We talked about my classmates. Where most could be found.

How many were married. Guess she saw my little frown.

She always seemed to know, what was on our hearts and minds.

She finally ask me, “Have you seen Judy?

I shook my head, “Not in a while.”

We waved, said, “Good by.” I turned away with a sad smile.

Not in a while have I seen those, deep dark eyes look at me.

Not in a while have I heard her, speak my name loud and plain.

Not in a while have I touched, the soft palms of her hands.

If someone asks me, “Have you seen Judy?” I just say,  “Not in a while.”

Not in a while have I seen those deep dark eyes look at me.

Not in a while. Not in a while. Not in a while.

Not in a while have I heard her speak my name loud and plain.

Not in a while. Not in a while. Not in a while.

Not in a while have I touched the soft palms of her hands.

Of her han-han-hands.

If someone asks me, “Have you seen Judy?”

 I just say, say, say, I say!

 “Not in a while!!   Not in a while!   Not in a while.”

A. L. Shipman Jr.   8-15-2009

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You Have Been Loved

You have been loved.       You have been loved.

From the time I heard your voice, saw your face.

Your bright enchanting eyes, pure and full of grace.

My love for you, it’s still strong. Has lasted for so long.

My desire you control but you’re gone.

You have been loved.       You have been loved.

Deeply, truly, sincerely, you have been loved.

From the time of our first meeting. Our first greeting.

You have been loved.       You have been loved.

My love for you has never changed, diminished, nor failed.

Though far away from my shore you sailed.

You never spoke a word of love for me.

But I will long for your love eternally.

You have been loved.      You have been loved.

Deeply, truly, sincerely, you have been loved.

From the time of our first meeting. Our first greeting.

You have been loved.      You have been loved.

No it’s not infatuation. It’s from above.

It was true; true for you. You have been loved.    

  You have been loved.     You have been loved.

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I Ain't Got Time

I’ve heard stories about some people

who gave love but none was returned.

They never looked for a new tomorrow.

And they died without a day of cheer.

So I ain’t got time to be unhappy.

I ain’t got time to waste on being blue.

Don’t need people, saying, “You’re pathetic.”

I’m a-gonna look ahead, and never back at you.

There was a time we walked in sunshine.

All the world seemed beautiful to me.

You’re love faded so very slowly.

You were gone though you were still standing there.

But I ain’t got time to be unhappy.

I ain’t got time to waste on being blue.

Don’t need people, saying, “You’re pathetic.”

I’m a-gonna look ahead, and never back at you.

I’ve looked in eyes that sparkled for me.

I’ve heard the words, “I really do love you.”

I have loved with all my heart and soul.

When they leave there’s nothing you or I can do.

No I ain’t got time to be unhappy.

I ain’t got time to waste on being blue.

Don’t need people, saying, “You’re pathetic.”

I’m a gonna look ahead, and never back at you.

I’m lookin’ ahead, and never back at you.

4-15-2005

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Sometimes She Crys

When they were young she fell for him.

They vowed their love to be so true.

But they were drawn to others then.

Sometimes she cries when she thinks of him.

Sometimes she cry’s when she thinks of him.

Sometimes she dies just a little too.

Although their love has long been gone,

sometimes she cry’s when she thinks of him.

She walks the hills, the riverbank.

Touches the tree where they dreamed their dreams.

But she can’t reclaim the love that’s lost.

Sometimes she cries when she thinks of him.

Sometimes she cries when she thinks of him.

Sometimes she dies just a little too.

Although their love has long been gone,

sometimes she cries when she thinks of him.

Her youth is gone. She’s growing old.

And soon her days will all be gone.

When she’s in her grave and resting there,

if she thinks at all, she’ll think of him.

Sometimes she cry’s when she thinks of him.

Sometimes she dies just a little too.

Although their love has long been gone,

sometimes she cry’s when she thinks of him.

In a little town far away,

sets an old man looking out or the bay.

He thinks of a girl he knew long ago.

He’d love to tell, tell her this today.

Sometimes I cry when I think of you.

Sometimes I die just a little too.

Although our love has long been gone,

sometimes I cry when I think of you.

Sometimes I cry when I think about you.

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JANIE

     I found Janie, in my young and careless days.

Made a lot of friends, with all of my carefree ways.

Didn’t realize, the treasure I’d found in Janie’s eyes.

She said she loved me. Janie never lies.

I need you Janie, like a willow, needs the water.

I miss you Janie, oh, twice as much, everyday.

Without you Janie, I’m as worthless as a star that never shines.

I love you Janie. What else, can I say?

     Left town, set out to make it on my own.

Chased after money, good old times and happiness.

Janie slipped away, out of site, into my yesterdays.

Now I miss her eyes, her voice, her tenderness.

I need you Janie, like a willow needs the water.

I miss you Janie, oh, twice as much, everyday.

Without you Janie, I’m as worthless as a star that never shines.

I love you Janie. What else, can I say?

    

Spend my time, searching from town to town.

Look for her face, in each and every crowd.

Hear her voice, sometimes I even call out loud.

But it’s not her. It’s her I miss. Bright eyes and soft sweet kiss.

I need you Janie, like a willow, needs water.

I miss you Janie, oh, twice as much, everyday.

Without you Janie, I’m as worthless, as a star that never shines.

I love you Janie, what else can I say.

     I need you Janie, like a willow.

Miss you Janie. Everyday.

With out you Janie, I’m so worthless.

What else, can I say?

What else, can I say?

What else, can I say?

                                                                                    A.L.Shipman Jr.

                                                                                    PIC 5-27-2005

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