Saturday, April 18, 2026

For Miah's upcoming release


My grandchildren had a nickname for me. It was partly a term of endearment and affection, but on deeper introspection it betrayed a sense of ridicule and disrespect for someone considered to be of a distant day, no longer relevant, no longer admirable, germane, unworthy, decrepit, and relegated to the dustbin of time. They loved me as only a grandchild can love a grandparent, but they saw me as a stoic and superfluous remnant of a bygone era. In a nod to the noble creature which was once ubiquitous on the plains and seemingly impervious to the advancement of civilization, and with whom I appeared to share this dubious distinction, they called me Grandpa Buffy, short, of course, for Grandpa Buffalo.  

By the close of the 1880s, there were estimated to be slightly over 500 buffalo left alive in North America. Inconceivable. A noble creature which had sustained generations of Native Americans through the centuries and had numbered in the tens of millions only a century earlier had been driven to the point of extinction by greed and a despicable desire by some to expedite what they considered the inevitable annihilation of everything and everyone which had come before. Native Americans were the intended target. The wanton and wholesale slaughter of the American buffalo was merely a means to an end. They were considered collateral damage. The lamentable state of the bison was the abhorrent result of deliberate commercial and political efforts designed to hasten the encroachment of what many considered civilization and progress. As their complete extinction seemed certain, unpreventable and imminent, some believed the buffalo could be saved by crossbreeding them with cows. Others considered the very idea sacrilegious.   

Through the dedicated efforts of President Theodore Rosevelt, William Hornaday of The American Bison Society, the iconic rancher, Charles Goodnight, Comanche leader, Quanah Parker, and numerous others who's timely and compassionate intervention combined to build scattered remnants of what were essentially pet buffalo preserved in private collections into eventually viable herds, the noble creatures would one day roam free and unmolested in numbers reminiscent of the vast herds which once carpeted the plains. Mankind, who had deliberately brought the buffalo to the verge of extinction, would repent, rally, and make reparations. Mankind was once more somewhat redeemed. The Indians paid a terrible price for what some considered progress, but the buffalo would be back, and not as cows.     

(Insert as paragraph four of episode 50 of MIAH.)  




Friday, April 17, 2026

MY NEW BOOK NOW AVAILABLE!

 I currently have three books available at Lulu Book Shop online.

CLARA'S BEST, OBIE book One, and OBIE book Two. 

I strongly suggest buying all three books, post haste! ;) 

Wednesday, April 15, 2026

FAITH

 FAITH

I need you when the storms of life
Come crashing on my shore.
And when my doubts wash over me
I need you even more.

I need you when my hopes and dreams
Are dashed upon the rock,
and when convictions held for years
Prove little more than talk.

I need you when my empathy
Is tearing me apart,
And when the sins of this cold world
Weigh heavy on my heart.

I need you when life's long held truths
Prove veiled and elusive,
And when the lies that claim the lost
Prove endlessly sedusive.

And I always need you most in the evenings,
When sun goes down and nightfall's shadows grow,
When darkness turns to silhouette, becoming one with shadows,
And faith becomes the only light I know. 

Shannon Thomas Casebeer

HARBINGERS OF LIBERTY

 HARBINGERS OF LIBERTY


The time has come to play your part.
All those who care, stand tall; take heart.
America can wait no more.
Let freedom ring from shore to shore.
Our flag is raised.
The bells have peeled.
Come, join as brothers.
Take the field.
Lend a hand now, one and all.
Respond as one to duty's call.
Denounce the calls of bigotry.
Be harbingers of liberty.
Defend the goals we've sought since youth.
Rise up as one and stand for truth.

Shannon Thomas Casebeer

Wednesday, April 8, 2026

WHEN BREEZES SIGHED, "MISSOURI."

Willow Springs, Missouri 1920s

If I could turn the clock back
And live my life once more,
I believe I’d take a slower pace,
Not hurry like before.
I’d live my life in Willow Springs
When faith dispelled all worry,
When fireflies lit summer skies,
And breezes sighed, "Missouri."
When school was taught with chalk on slate,
Each hour marked by a bell,
Luncheon served from paper bags,
And a pint of milk was swell.
When horse and buggy still raised dust
And little Fords were few,
When little girls weren’t exempt from lust,
But little boys had no clue.
When belts were worn with shirts tucked in,
And Pomade clogged our comb,
When we took our best girl to the dance, and
Palms caressed while walking sweetheart's home.
I know it’s just a silly dream.
I know it can’t come true.
I know it just sounds foolish now
To share it here with you.
But my wish for every one of us
Is that we’ll live each minute,
Treasure every hour of life
And every loved one in it.
Cling tightly to those days gone by
When faith dispelled all worry,
When fireflies lit summer skies,
And breezes sighed, "Missouri."

Shannon Thomas Casebeer

Monday, March 16, 2026

The Ozark Plateau



The Ozark Plateau

Beneath the ever-changing sky,
The Ozark Mountains stand.
They tug at fierce clouds passing by,
To quench the thirsty land,
While sharp rains whittle craggy bluffs,
And wash away the sand.

The rugged hills of greens and blues
Are beautiful and vast;
Each season’s ever-changing hues,
Here but brief, then past.
Their colors are inconstant,
But the Ozarks last and last.

As spring exiles the winter’s chill
Till next year’s early freeze,
The first faint call of Whippoorwill
Floats soft on evening breeze,
And echoes through the redbuds
And the Ozark’s flowering trees.

Deep in the Ozark bluffs and rocks
With old growth for a nest,
The Pileated Woodpecker taps and knocks
In rhythm with the rest,
And the passion of this ageless song,
Could never be expressed.

Beneath the ever-changing sky,
The old plateau insists,
That any pilgrim passer-by
Is drawn by Ozark mists.
And Whippoorwill will echo still,
As long as life exists.

Shannon Thomas Casebeer

Saturday, March 14, 2026

250 YEARS OF FREEDOM



We the people, free and blessed,
Pledge today to stand the test.
It's not by accident we're free.
Our heritage is liberty.
Still today our task remains.
To gird up and secure those gains,
Make fast the freedoms we've received.
Raise up the truth that we've believed.
Hold tight the torch and raise it high.
Defend our flag and let it fly.
Prepare to stand for truth again.
Defend the rights of fellowmen.
Our brotherhood has kept us free.
Our greatest strength is unity.
Our cause, robust as tempered steel.
Our flags fly on; our bells still peal.
Together, truth shall keep us free.
Together, we are liberty.