On The Banks Of The Wabash Far Away

by Captain Bill

On The Banks Of The Wabash Far Away

I’m at the Jorge Chavez International Airport in Lima at the sort of fancy restaurant, 4D, at the top of the escalator across from Starbucks. I’m using Starbucks wi-fi. I guess the two places have some arrangement, or maybe 4D pirates the signal. My waiter knows the password. The waiter says he will move me to a table where I can plug in to charge my battery. If that happens I will use this as my office for the rest of the afternoon.

I’ll be darned, he did it I’m plugged in, wired in, charging my battery, answering emails, writing to you, studying the menu. 4D just became my favorite place at the Lima Airport. Wi-fi makes me happy, plus I am sipping a delicious creamy coffee with a scoop of vanilla ice cream blended in. Could be a lot worse, and probably will be before I get back to my old farm house in Indiana, 27 hours travel time, half of it waiting in airports.

I redesigned my life style when I moved to Iquitos and it’s a pretty special style, but there is a trade off with everything we try to do and missing my family and long time friends is a downside to the ex-pat life. My grandson is growing up without much of grandpa’s lovin’ discipline, my mom isn’t getting any younger, I’m lonesome for my daughter Dawn and son Matt, and too many friends to mention here.

That is why I am on this journey back to visit good old Indiana On The Banks Of The Wabash far away.

I have always been a wand’rer
Over land and sea
Yet a moonbeam on the water
Casts a spell o’er me
A vision fair I see
Again I seem to be

Back home again in Indiana,
And it seems that I can see
The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright,
Through the sycamores for me.
The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
From the fields I used to roam.
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash,
Then I long for my Indiana home.

Fancy paints on mem’ry’s canvas
Scenes that we hold dear
We recall them in days after
Clearly they appear
And often times I see
A scene that’s dear to me

Back home again in Indiana,
And it seems that I can see
The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright,
Through the sycamores for me.
The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
From the fields I used to roam.
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash,
Then I long for my Indiana home.

Round my Indiana homestead wave the cornfields,
In the distance loom the woodlands clear and cool.
Oftentimes my thoughts revert to scenes of childhood,
Where I first received my lessons, nature’s school.
But one thing there is missing from the picture,
Without her face it seems so incomplete.
I long to see my mother in the doorway,
As she stood there years ago, her boy to greet.

Oh, the moonlight’s fair tonight along the Wabash,
From the fields there comes the breath of newmown hay.
Through the sycamores the candle lights are gleaming,
On the banks of the Wabash, far away.

Not to mention sweet corn, ripe tomatoes, and watermelon out of the garden, corn fed beef steaks on the charcoal grill, 12 grain whole wheat bread in the oven, and a big glass of whole milk. Mom, I’ll be back home on the farm tomorrow, where the breeze carries the breath of new mown hay, and the candlelight flickers through the sycamores, and I long to see my Mother standing in the door like so long ago, on the banks of the Wabash faarrrrr aawaaaayyyyy.

On The Banks Of The Wabash Far Away

Bill Grimes is traveling back to the farm and the banks of the Wabash River in Indiana, far away.

I Long To See My Mother In The Doorway;

Happy Mother Day;

{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Dave Bonnett August 5, 2010 at 11:16 pm

Hi Bill
How long will you be there? We will be landing in Indianapolis on Sept 19th on the way to Dottie’s 50th HS reunion in Champaign IL. If you are in IN still maybe we could rendezvous.
Hope you are feeling better.
Dave B

2 Leon Jones August 7, 2010 at 11:40 am

I hope you enjoy your trip to Indiana, Bill. Great poem.

3 Greg August 10, 2010 at 11:57 am

Welcome back to the States. Have fun while you’re here!

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