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Oklahoma Rose
A Poem By Laura (Brown) Barnum

Also see the "Great Oklahoma Land Rush of 1889;" "Chills, Fever, Friends and Good Times;" and the "Big Flood of April 22, 1885"

Editor's note -- this poem is one of several creative writings by Laura (Brown) Barnum about our family's role in the pioneer settlement of Oklahoma, often called the "Great Oklahoma Land Rush" or the "Run of 1889." The author and her sister Nellie (Brown) Jones staked their claim near the town of Kingfisher on the very first day that land was available to white settlers. See the sisters' other works -- "Great Oklahoma Land Rush of 1889;" "Chills, Fever, Friends and Good Times;" and the "Big Flood of April 22, 1885"

Kingfisher, Oklahoma, early 1900s

This is the year we celebrate
The first land opening in our state.
Fifty years is a long long time.
Since we ran that first race across the line
Into Oklahoma Proper, on April 22, in '89.

The other lands opened one by one
And round and round about her twined.
As petals round the heart of a rose entwine.
The years roll by and each land petal unfolds.
To develop its numerous resource untold.

And now together united they stand
and make one of the grandest states in our land.
The Cherokee Strip is a land so grand
It overflows the breadbasket of our land.

So are all the other nations grand
With their oil and cotton and grazing lands.
They are each a petal of the full blown rose
and Okla Property is the heart of that rose.

But the rose has thorns as we all well known
Droughths come and go and dust storms blow..
But we will find drawbacks where every we go.
And Okla is no exception you know.

But we've learned as we journied down life's street.
To take the bitter with the sweet
They may sing about the Rockies
Or the rolling Texas Plains
But they can't treat Okla When it rains.

And the gentle rains fall and the sun shines out
And put the drough and dust storms out.
The golden grain waves in its shimmering light
And the cotton fields become snowy white
The orchards and gardens a pure delight.

The wild flowers bloom o'er its prairies wide
The Whipperwill calls and the meadow larks trill,
Their song of love over vale and hill,
The moonbeams fall on this quiet scene,
Her woodlands valley and mountain streams.

And no matter where or how far we may roam,
The distant Lands o'er Ocean foam
Oklahoma is Home Sweet Home.

Oklahoma Rose keep blooming
We'll come back to you some day.
Back where the whipper will's calling
And the scene of our yesterdays.

And as we sit and dream in the twilight glow,
And watch there shadows darker grow,
In fancy we see the pale moon beams
Walk softly o'er woodlands valley and mountain streams.

Text published with consent of the family.

Page copyright 2015 Mark A. Miner