There is a section in Memphis called Whitehaven

Where a young man bought a home in the year 1957.

For years it had been known as "Graceland"

A most beautiful mansion on a lovely piece of land.

At the time of its building, no one could suspect

That one day it would be spoken of in reverent respect.

Graceland would become as famous as the Taj Mahal

And would be visited by thousands, without so much as a call.

They would come and stand for hours, completely at ease

Talking and discussing Elvis, under the Graceland trees.

The trees would listen to the chatter and some very serious talk

As under their branches so many different people would take a walk.

They stand like sentinels and you can be sure

They are dressed in their finest greenery for every tour.

If only they could speak, and tell what they know,

I'm sure they would remain silent, their respect to show

For the man who lived inside this royal domain

To them he was different, not the same

As the man we had grown to love and know by his first name,

And God forbid anyone that would try to bring him shame.

They guarded him well while he was still alive,

Now they bow their heads sadly over the "Meditation" drive,

And give cool shade to those who are there

Still grieving, still crying, for they still care.

And if you listen closely, you can hear his melodies,

Whispering, oh so softly, through his Graceland Trees.

©©Joan Buchanan West

ELVIS: 1935-NEVER

  My Heartfelt Thanks to Joan
for so graciously sharing her beautiful-beautiful 'Elvis' poems !!!
Please drop her a note in appreciation of her awesome talent
and her love of Elvis.

I humbly ask that you remember Joan in your prayers.
as she continues her battle with cancer.
Please add her to your prayer list and
drop her a note with your encouragement
and best wishes!
God bless each of you!
My love,
Janie