I found this poem on a scrap of paper in drawer. I have no idea of when my dad wrote this, however since he didn't have a verse for "north," I suspect he wrote this when he lived in Michigan and was homesick for Tennessee, as he was each spring. The last verse is a bit choppy, but just try rhyming the word "south."
I feel a touch of spring,
Norma Jean, Norma Jean
I feel a touch of spring,
Norma Gina
I feel a touch of spring
The birds are on the wing
And they make the forest ring,
Norma Gina
The grass is getting green,
Norma Jean, Norma Jean
The grass is getting green,
Norma Gina
The grass is getting green
And if you know what I mean
We need a change in scene,
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go West,
Norma Jean, Norma Jean
Perhaps we should go West
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go West
But I have no zest for the West
And I couldn't do my best,
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go East,
Norma Jean, Norma Jean
Perhaps we should go East,
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go East
But my good times would all cease
For the East I like the least,
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go South,
Norma Jean, Norma Jean
Perhaps we should go South,
Norma Gina
Perhaps we should go South
For it's the gospel truth
That love would rule our house,
Norma Gina
~James C. Parker (no date)
