The Tale Of The Mountain Healer Poem by cheryl davis miller

The Tale Of The Mountain Healer



In the mountains of fair West Virginia;
the people lived happy and free.
Priding themselves in their independence
and natural abilities.

They had ventured from far away shorelines
from Scotland, and Ireland and Wales.
Spoke of their homes in songs and sweet ballads;
filling young heads with old tales.

Life was not easy you may have surmised;
they lived off the wealth of the land.
Why any chose to live in those mountains
towns people, could not understand.

Up in those hills there lived a young beauty
her name was Rose Ella McNye.
A sprite of a girl with flaming red hair
and eyes like a blue summer sky.

Well Rose Ella had never had schoolin'
but she'd learned at her grandma's knee.
What you could reap from mountains and valleys;
and make into home remedies.

Many's the time folks knocked at her door
seeking help for a sick loved one.
She'd gather her bags of herbs and dried yarbs*;
and off thru the woods she'd then run.

Then one day Rose Ella met a suitor
by the name, of Newt Matheny.
Folks told her, ' Rose Ella don't you court him
he comes from a bad family.'

Rose Ella disregarded the warnings
they married and started a clan.
After three or four babes she realized
she'd married a travelin' man.

Poor Rose Ella did most of the farmin'
doctorin' with babies in tow.
Newt stuck to drinkin' and makin' moonshine;
at times he would just up and go.

During one of his many adventures
someone knocked, on Rose Ella's door.
She went to help while babies were sleeping;
not dreaming of what lay in store.

She was climbing the mountain at sunrise
and fear gripped her heart at the sight.
Of her cabin ablaze to the roof peak
two babies were lost in the night.

A week or so later Newt sobered up
and learned of the loss they had shared.
Ran to Rose Ella who sat in a daze
offering comfort he dared.

Rose Ella most of her senses regained
her three babies left; she could tend.
She and Newt never more shared the same bed
some ailments you just cannot mend.


c.d.m.8/12/2011

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
the story of my paternal great-grandmother
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