Here is another Ethelbert poem set in the Wichita Mountains of southwest Oklahoma. This one is based on something I witnessed myself many years ago along the streams of West Cache Creek - a quarter-mile east of, and below, the dam on French Lake.

The Shimmerin' Tinklins of West Cache Creek

Fer two days it had been freezin'
We wuz scoutin' up West Cache Creek;
ridin' close to the tree-lined bank
a bit west a Turkey Creek.

Thar th' creek had pert-near froze
an' iced over from side t' side.
Mason reckon'd it wuz perty thin;
yet four meybe five wagon's wide.

Then Zach had this hankerin' to mischef,
so he stopt and pickd up a stone.
He aimed it fer near 'bout mid-stream;
'at rock, over tree-high, he thrown!

O it flew in a lovely arc, it did;
then crashed plum thru the ice.
An' bless my taters whut happend next,
turned our thoughts t'wards Paradise!

A sharp crack, then a ripplin'
then cascadin' cymbals of sound;
as the ice-shattered circle expanded,
with us on the bank, spellbound.

Hunderds a shimmerin' tinklins
wafting soft-like along the wind,
echoed across the ice-covered stream;
back and forth, agin and agin!

Of all the sounds we ever heard,
pure beauty twas 'at music thar!
I pause ever time I ponder it;
it wuz like angels a sayin' a prayer!

An' I hope we'll never ferget
those tinklin' cymbals so sweet!
May thar melody with us ever abide
'til Jesus our Savior we meet!

Next poem: Ethelbert’s Medication Mixup

Author: Jerry Dan Deutschendorf
from: Red Earth Whisperings
Part II: The Old Timer