A Moment

A beautiful time, these memories I hold
The visions of it all, pull at me still
That big old farmhouse, just off the road
There she is again, Grandma standing in the door
Shading her eyes, from the dust and the sun
Pap in the field, cutting the hay
Yes, I’m taken right back there
These, such happy times

“Dinners ready”, comes the call
Mashed potatoes and gravy,
Fresh dinner rolls, home-churned butter
Pork chops, golden brown, from that hog killed just this fall
Sweet corn on the cob, that we picked from the garden
And snap peas snapped by Grandma and me
Pap thanking God, for all that we have
Yes, these are the best memories, most cherished of all

Pap working hard, all through the day
Cussing that mule, pushing that plow
Grandma weeding, making the garden neat
So we could have the freshest, most variety to eat
The cows had to be milked, much to the cats delight
As they stood in the doorway, begging a squirt
The chores seemed so easy, each day so bright
The breeze ever blowing, and all that sunshine for light

The fields now lay fallow, or gone to the road
Its been years since they’ve seen, that mule or the plow
These memories are all that’s left to me now,
But in them I still relive…

The wonders of warm summer days, and us kids out at play
I still smell the hint, of fresh apple pie
And Pap’s fresh cut hay, on each little breeze
I wish I could return, if only for a moment
But I’m already there, so I guess I’ll just stay…..

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre January 17th, 2008


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