Poems and Tales from Thomas Road

By Joe W. Grubb

my biogaphy will be on the back page I have no design at this time

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477224595

Joe W. Grubb

Author, Writer, Poet, I don't think so. I was born 69 years ago at home in Harrodsburg Indiana. An old truck driver who likes to try and write and has lots of miles on him. He realizes if he is going to try to write, he had better get to hell with it. This describes me. My writing are mostly about real things and they take me places in my mind that I enjoy being.

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© 2012 Joe W Grubb. All rights resetved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 6/4/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1343-8

ISBN: 978-1-4772-2459-5 (eBook)

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Contents

Preface

Introduction

Old Front Yard Maple

Old House

Takeover Tom

Lucy

The Drill Press

Solid Country

Mike’s Place

An Every Christmas Walk

When I Grow Up

The Barber Shop

Grandma’s Fudge

The Old Home Place

Hay Field

Halloween

Winter

Stained Glass Window

Hello Friday

Picnic

Ballad of the Farmer

Garage Sale Jesus

Norval

second part

Norval’s Heaven

My Lost Son

Reminisce

A-Top The Hill

Ladies Of The Afternoon

Preface

I thought my name was God for a long time because every time I wrote a poem or story, I would ask my wife to read it and tell me what she thought. She would say Oh God, do I have to?

This book is dedicated to her, my best friend for life

Introduction

Everybody thinks their crow is the blackest, that is an old saying my papaw used to say when someone was braggin’ on something. So, I guess that’s the way I feel when I talk about our little twenty acres on Thomas Road. My high school sweetheart and I have lived in a house we built for ourselves and our kids and grandkids. We have two boys and one girl, two granddaughters, and three grandsons. They are all good kids, like my papaw used to say, If they ain’t killed nobody, every thing else can be corrected. During these last forty or so years, lots of things have happened to write about. I ain’t smart enough to just sit down and write, something has to happen to get me goin’, like ten years or so ago my wife Joella and I bought an old house at the east end of Thomas road in the small town of Ellettsville. We fixed it up, throwed some bright yellow paint on it with green shutters and filled it with antiques. We named it Stogsdill House Antiques for the people that had lived there since 1942. ( ‘Course that is another story)

We took turns staying at the shop. there’s a big old maple tree in the front yard. One day I was sitting in the yard waiting for customers and looking at this tree. The