Country boy, bon vivant and ranch owner near Sparks, Oklahoma, USA.

I am a lover of history, fascinated by the untold stories behind events. I confess my addiction to literature of all sorts: poetry, drama and comedy. And, of course, the odd mystery here and there.
Always be very, very careful with your olives. A good martini ain't just a drink, it's a meal!
Over the years as findagrave has grown and as members have reached out to one another for help with a loved one who might have been forgotten, I have been moved by the good I see in people on this site. All of you deserve praise.
For corrections, please e-mail me. Please make sure the subject line reads: FIND-A-GRAVE. Thank you in advance & may God bless & keep you.

 ---Life's Rows---

I have not lived within life's fences.
Nor ever plowed the straight row.
I've always shifted circumstances.
Like wind within the wheat row.

My crops have always grown and bloomed.
Then wilted on life's vines.
Victims of what I once assumed
Would be tomorrow's harvest times.

My forty acres then went untilled
Nor have I sought for more
Till weeds choked out dreams unfulfilled
And fruits rot to the core.

One more harvest awaits my plow
Fresh seeds to germinate.
I cannot be distracted now
Life's rows must be plowed straight.

Barry Sharpe - 1994

Country boy, bon vivant and ranch owner near Sparks, Oklahoma, USA.

I am a lover of history, fascinated by the untold stories behind events. I confess my addiction to literature of all sorts: poetry, drama and comedy. And, of course, the odd mystery here and there.
Always be very, very careful with your olives. A good martini ain't just a drink, it's a meal!
Over the years as findagrave has grown and as members have reached out to one another for help with a loved one who might have been forgotten, I have been moved by the good I see in people on this site. All of you deserve praise.
For corrections, please e-mail me. Please make sure the subject line reads: FIND-A-GRAVE. Thank you in advance & may God bless & keep you.

 ---Life's Rows---

I have not lived within life's fences.
Nor ever plowed the straight row.
I've always shifted circumstances.
Like wind within the wheat row.

My crops have always grown and bloomed.
Then wilted on life's vines.
Victims of what I once assumed
Would be tomorrow's harvest times.

My forty acres then went untilled
Nor have I sought for more
Till weeds choked out dreams unfulfilled
And fruits rot to the core.

One more harvest awaits my plow
Fresh seeds to germinate.
I cannot be distracted now
Life's rows must be plowed straight.

Barry Sharpe - 1994