Calhoun County’s lights are dim,
The summer night is still;
A solitary figure looks down
From the top of Tina Hill.
A soft breeze begins to stir;
A tender song rises on the air,
And from the moonlit sky above
There descends a celestial stair.
As the figure mounts the stairs,
She pauses to look down again,
And from her being emanates
A benediction for all her friends.
The residents are awakened,
By all the church bells ringing;
They sit and listen in silent awe
To angels’ voices singing.
Then the quiet returns once more;
To sleepy people it was a dream,
But over the county forevermore
Shines a shimmering golden beam.
©Copyright September 3, 2008
by Thurman P. Woodfork
Author’s Note: Remembering Tina Rice