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AngelTears6996 Posted 21 years ago
Tell Me Cimarron
O Tell me wide old Cimarron,
Or let me help you think,
About the little indian boy,
who played along your bank.
Cimarron can you recall,
When these great cotton woods were small?
And if I had Lived as long as you,
I'd search my memory through and through.
And tell about the indian camp,
That sat along your bank so damp.
Waiting for the rise to pass,
So they can cross to greener grass.
About the chief,
and the old squaw,
Oh Cimarron all these you saw.
Tell me about this crossing place,
Its many years,
if I can trace.
Since anyone has crossed you here.
But here's the cave great and strong,
It was to guide the boats along,
Half buried in the cottonwood,
It must have done alot of good.
For at this place,
You are so swift,
You would have tipped their tiny skriffs.
The boatman's house most tumbled down,
With a peaked roof,
and walls of browne
A little old barn,
Out in back.
That now had many,
a hole and crack.
Like the house most tumbled down,
But had a cedar for a crown.
Another thing I'd like to know,
About who lived here long ago.
About this old mullberry tree,
That guards this spot so gracefully.
Oh Cimarron,
you do not say,
But journey on your tireless way.
A lesson I will take from you,
To be as patient,
and as true.
Written about an old fonding place on the Cimarron River near Oilton Oklahoma.
By: Valley Meadows 1930
Or let me help you think,
About the little indian boy,
who played along your bank.
Cimarron can you recall,
When these great cotton woods were small?
And if I had Lived as long as you,
I'd search my memory through and through.
And tell about the indian camp,
That sat along your bank so damp.
Waiting for the rise to pass,
So they can cross to greener grass.
About the chief,
and the old squaw,
Oh Cimarron all these you saw.
Tell me about this crossing place,
Its many years,
if I can trace.
Since anyone has crossed you here.
But here's the cave great and strong,
It was to guide the boats along,
Half buried in the cottonwood,
It must have done alot of good.
For at this place,
You are so swift,
You would have tipped their tiny skriffs.
The boatman's house most tumbled down,
With a peaked roof,
and walls of browne
A little old barn,
Out in back.
That now had many,
a hole and crack.
Like the house most tumbled down,
But had a cedar for a crown.
Another thing I'd like to know,
About who lived here long ago.
About this old mullberry tree,
That guards this spot so gracefully.
Oh Cimarron,
you do not say,
But journey on your tireless way.
A lesson I will take from you,
To be as patient,
and as true.
Written about an old fonding place on the Cimarron River near Oilton Oklahoma.
By: Valley Meadows 1930
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