I’m going to Arley, Alabama; there are so many sites to see.
The old Post Office, the Courthouse, and a run down cemetery.
This place has really got it all
A High School, Bar BQ, a beauty parlor;
Well, I just heard that the old tree is still down over the creek near Johnson’s holler.
These cotton-pickin’ folks are happy
Just wave, they’ll give you a grin.
They will even invite you to church
Where you fess-up to your sin.
Driving around this pretty little town, oh boy does it
It brings back lots of childhood memories of my
We’ll go walking in the woods to gather hickory sticks, "oh heck,"
They’re not for spankin’.
They’re for that old black stove cause it’s popcorn we’re a makin’.
As you’re driving down old County Road 41
don’t blink cause you will miss,
The sweet southern elderly lady blowing you a big ole’ kiss.
When evening is closing in we’ll find us a cozy nook,
Where we can browse and wish through the Sears and Roebuck book.
You technological age come sit and listen to what you’re a missin’,
While Paw Paw tells you old, old stories as you both are gone a fishin’.
I’m coming back to Arley, where the little things are Grande,
Like eating homemade cornbread and mashed potatoes
And, oh yes, those homegrown beans they canned.
Arley, Alabama, my roots came straight by you.
And we’ll never be a stranger but kinfolk,
Cause my heart will always be true.
Written by: Karyn Bircheat Kelly
Proud daughter of Loraina M. Evans of Arley, Alabama, age 76
Written on September 12, 2006 as a keepsake for my first trip to Arley (scheduled for November 2006).