“What does freedom mean?”
she asked her mom,
with little eyes
so bright and wide.
“It means resting well
after games and fun,
so you can grow
with peace inside.”

“Why does it matter, though?”
she asked her dad,
with curious ears
that loved to hear.
“It matters so
we can be ourselves,
and live our lives
with less to fear.”

“How did we get it then?”
she asked them both,
her tiny heart,
growing up a notch.
“It took brave people,”
they both agreed,
“who chose to serve,
inspire, and stand watch.”

Then their little girl turned
and looked outside,
at the flag flying in the yard.
And then it clicked,
In her innocent soul,
That it’s not just soldiers,
Who protect and stand guard.

Freedom belongs to everyone,
Caring enough
to make that choice.
From the littlest folks,
to the oldest ones,
Unafraid to use their voice.
© c.c. Snowden 2025 *  RIP Charlie Kirk *

When the headlines of the day,
Overwhelm you with dismay.
Hang in there, because on the way…
Is college football!

If you’re bored with every show,
And being cautious with your cash flow.
Just stay home and drink Merlot,
Raise a glass to football!

When you’re ready for changing seasons,
And love fall best for many reasons.
Figure out what jeans to squeeze in…
For GameDay Football!

If you’re skilled and like to cook,
And like to Pinterest for a new look.
Combine the app and your address book,
Part-plan for football!

He was the last man standing,
With five decades on the slide.
Just a Simple Man on big stages,
With his hometown full of pride.
A survivor of that plane crash,
That forever changed the band.
Why some were taken and some sparred,
No living person will understand.
But their legacy and their lyrics,
Like fresh waters in a drought.
Keep feeding generations,
that’s what great music’s all about.
From the Westside of the city,
To the best side in the clouds.
Lynyrd Skynyrd is still jamming
for the mortal and heavenly crowds.
Please serenade us
when we get there,
On that guitar the way you do.
Mr. Rossington –
You’re a legend, and we all salute you!

“The Dad”

I have heard your stories,
a thousand times.
Of big business deals,
and some childhood crimes.
Still I love to listen,
and drink them up,
Like cold margaritas,
salt and fresh limes.
We have been on trips,
and seen so much.
like distant beaches,
national parks and such.
Thieves could steal,
my every souvenir.
But the memories made,
they cannot touch.
Our amazing God
created life,
without blueprints
or a sketchpad.
And everything he made
is  wonderful,
But I’m most grateful for…
The Dad.
Your hair is white
mine is turning grey,
And I am more aware now
of every passing day.
I guess there is wisdom
in that old cliche…
Don’t blink an eye,
because time slips away.
Our amazing God
created life,
without blueprints
or a sketchpad.
And everything he made
is  wonderful,
But I’m forever grateful
you’re my dad.