Here's a Bluegrass Gospel song I composed in 1974.

A River Past This Forest.
Copyright 1974 Frederick Warner.

There's a river past this forest    That I have never seen
How I long to walk it's banks,    So golden and serene
Just to be upon that shore    Where by the waters flow
And rest my weary mind    Where troubles never grow

And on that river bank    There is the cave of life
And when I reach the mouth    How bright will be the light
For there is peace and happiness    That's stamped within its' walls
So rugged are the feet    That walk it's precious halls

No torrent will be found    Within this river's depths
To the Master Builder    I shall pay away my debts
I will tread deep in the waters    So far out from the shore
And there I'll fear no evil    For it will be no more

A new stream will be flowing    As Earth goes 'round once more
Each time it's a river    That no one's sailed before
But, the waters may turn dark    While the raging rapids run
And it's often hard to see Him    The Lifeboat as He comes.

The composition above is titled "Jay-Henge" and was composed entirely on the summit of Jay Mountain in Jay, NY. It is a great example of the music genre I've created that I call "Cinematic Bluegrass". I hope you enjoy. Thanks for listening.

Cinematic Bluegrass is a genre of music that I may very well have started years ago with my "Headwaters" album. I call it this -Cinematic Bluegrass- owing to the use of orchestral-style violin string sections and other instruments, which in my humble opinion, provide a lot of emotion to the pieces. This page presents a piece I've written in memory of a dear old man I knew and loved who was robbed and murdered for a twenty dollar bill he had in his pants pocket next to him one night while he slept. I"ve titled the piece "Blue Heron" and included the words. This page also includes "The Handmade Vase", "Rusty Waters" and the tune right below this next paragraph which I've titled "On The Upper Lake" which was featured on my debut album "Headwaters", years ago and is dedicated to my dear friend Jeremiah Lewis. 
 
For an example that includes water and waves, please listen to this piece titled "On The Upper Lake" composed on location at the Upper Au Sable Lake, property belonging to the Au Sable Club in St. Huberts, a hamlet in the township of Keene, Essex County, New York. This piece was composed in loving memory of a dear friend who lost his life one night after overturning a guideboat in very rough waters on the Upper Au Sable Lake.
Press the arrow on the grey-colored bar just below on the left to hear "On The Upper Lake."
ON THE UPPER LAKE:

Here's another Cinematic Bluegrass piece I've composed and titled "Blue Heron":

BLUE HERON
by Frederick A. Warner.
Copyright 1992

I'd go down past the mill pond
Each and every morning
On my way to see the old man
Down at the mill
When I'd get to the alders
That old blue bird would fly
Today, when I walked by
He stood there still
Could he know that the old man
Was murdered late last evening
Killed for a twenty-dollar bill

Like an old Blue Heron
On a dark winter's evening
Standing in a river
Too cold to fly
With his thoughts on the springtime
Of a warm, misty morning
Blessed are the memories
In this old bird's eyes
Well, that's just how I feel
When I think of the old man
Lonesome are the winds where he flys.

Here's an instrumental I composed and titled "The Handmade Vase". The mandolin I used for this recording was built by David Nichols of Whippleville, NY in 1992. www.custompearlinlay.com  

Here's another Cinematic Bluegrass piece I composed, recorded and copyrighted in the early 1990's. I titled it "Rusty Waters". Katie Moody does a fine job of singing the lead vocals. She sang harmony on "Blue Heron".  The words are:

Rusty Waters
Copyright 1990
Frederick A. Warner

Was lost all night    On Ebeneezer
Town folks out    'Til  break of morn
When morning came    And daylight reached her
They wondered why    She looked so torn

Chorus:
Gonna drag my chain    Through rusty waters
Heal her wound    With a pinch of salt
Gone and changed    But why'd she bother
Ain't to blame    It's all my fault

 Toward the other side    The demons swim there
They'll drag you down    'Fore you reach the shore
'Bout half-way cross    Those rusty waters
She'd not turn back    And cross no more

Repeat Chorus

Yesterday morning    Thought I smelled the coffee
It smelled so rich    And oh, so strong
But this mornin'    When I got up, Lord
I could smell    My baby had gone

Repeat Chorus

The Old Swimming Hole
Copyright 11/01/2009
Frederick A. Warner

(Verses 1 & 2)
We parked our old car    at the top of the hill    on the roadside    overlooking the stream
The steep path led down    to the river and the grounds    where many years ago    I would dream

My sweetheart and I    holding hands side by side    while I thought of those    days long gone by
If she'd been here back then    how happy I'd of been    I fought back the    tears from my eyes

(Chorus)
Then my memories fell back    to the days along the stream
Pretty flowers on the path    I've seen them in my dreams
Songbirds sang to me    flying....tree to tree
How this old swimming hole    was a    safe place for me
And then her sweet, tender    voice    would call me    back
Back to the old swimming hole

(Verse 3)
I dreamed in those days    of a life free from pain    a childhood wish for sure    I must say
But when I was a boy    growing up on the river    it seemed as clear    to me as today

(Chorus)
(Verse 4)
We headed up the bank    taking care not to slip    on the rugged path    overlooking the stream
As we opened up the doors    to our old Cadillac    my mind drifted    back to those dreams
(Chorus)

Here's a song I found in my archives that I wrote many years ago. The High Peaks Boys used to play this one out and around. It goes right along in speed so it was often asked for.

            G                F                 C                   G
Please listen if you will    how it troubles me still
                                          D7
That I ever fell in love with you
        G                    F                    C                  G
If I'd known before hand    you'd find another man
                               D7          G
I'd not of fallen and been so blue

CHORUS:
            C                                        G
There'll be no coming back    to fill this lonesome gap
                                                 D7
Or to rub me any more in your dirt
        G                    F              C                      G
This heart's had its fill    keep traveling if you will
                         D7                 G
I can't take any more of your hurt

VERSE 2:

Keep away if you can    stick to your new-found man

And hold him a little closer to your heart

Such a pity as it seems    all finished now our dreams

Your lying tongue has forced us apart

(Repeat Chorus)

To Kneel and to Pray on Mom and Dad’s Graves Copyright July 19, 2011 Frederick Warner


CHORUS:

                   C                                    G

If I ever get back     to the old home place

                                                           D

I’ve one thing to do    a promise I’ve made

                         G                                     C

To walk up the path    on a bright sunny day

                                G                D                      G    

And to kneel and to pray     on Mom and Dad’s graves


VERSE 1:

                             G                  C                    G

When I left my old home    my thoughts run astray

                                                D

I wanted to roam    so far, far away

                                   G                                 C            

And to meet me new friends     and ramble around

                         G               D            G    

I neglected our folks     before I left town


VERSE 2:

                              G             C           G  

Now the truth is today    I’m far, far away

                                                                       D

I may never return      to the old home someday

                               G                                C

I’ve lived my whole life    just a-rambling around

                           G                          D               G

I’ve rued my old ways    from the dark side of town

Below are a couple of documentaries written and directed by Michael Mannetta. I was fortunate to be able to compose the soundtracks to both films.

http://www.adirondackart.com/adk_giftsvideo.htm
http://www.adirondackmuseumstore.com/music-and-dvds.html
Writer/Director Michael Mannetta
Come visit the Great Camps of the Adirondacks. Discover these historic and architectural treasures in a region of upstate New York famous for its natural beauty and extensive wilderness. Part One explores the early history of this rustic architecture and how it evolved from the simple lean-to or log cabin called a camp into grand estates often known as Great Camps. In the late 1800's, the scenic Raquette Lake area became the center for much of this camp building. Here, the Great Camps of William West Durant - Pine Knot, Uncas & Sagamore - were show places that inspired imitation and attracted the wealthy who desired rustic yet elegant wilderness retreats. Durant built his camps in harmony with nature and they have stood the test of time as monuments to his vision. His exploits in the Adirondacks tell a fascinating story and follow the early development of the region.

The story of the Great Camps continues in the Saranac/St.Regis Lakes region of the Adirondacks. Here these woodland estates evolved in appearance and stature from 1897 to 1907 through the talents of architect William Coulter. On the shores of the Saranac Lakes, he designed grand rustic lodges at camps Moss Ledge, Eagle Island, Prospect Point and at other distinguished camps. On Upper St. Regis Lake, the richest woman in the world, Marjorie Merriweather Post, built her own Great Camp in the 1920's, the lavish Topridge, while at nearby White Pine Camp with its picturesque Japanese teahouse, President Coolidge spent his summer fishing. A log villa set in the heart of the Adirondacks, Santanoni, possibly the grandest camp of its time, tells a different story. Donated to New York State, the camp deteriorated over many years but is now enjoying a renaissance with the help of state and local government and the preservation community.

Writer/Director Michael Mannetta
http://www.adirondackart.com/adk_giftsvideo.htm
http://www.adirondackmuseumstore.com/music-and-dvds.html