Saturday, August 22, 2015

The Finest I've Ever Seen





                                          We no longer raise gardens, chickens and hogs
                                          No more smoking chimneys, we now use gas logs

                                          There's no more hog killings on Thanksgiving Day
                                          Only turkeys and hams grace the tables today

                                          We no longer carry water in for the night
                                          There's plenty of running water and baths delight

                                          There's no more sitting by an old oil lamp
                                          A light hangs from the ceiling, an electric revamp

                                          No more traveling preachers, a thing of the past
                                          Big new churches, log churches are in the past

                                          There's no more Store Truck making its way through
                                          Like kids in a candy store, we stood like a statue

                                          An orange and an apple used to be a Christmas treat
                                          Now days electronics are the only thing that's neat

                                         Keeping a milk cow and churning our own buttermilk
                                         They now snarl their nose if its not store bought milk

                                         There's not many clothes now blowing in the wind
                                         We now have clothes dryers and washers that spin

                                         No one takes time to visit their neighbors or the sick
                                         My daddy's not here with his big walking stick

                                        The canning and jelly making days are almost gone
                                         Just a few old timers left to carry on

                                        There's no one left to cure the thrash (Thrush) anymore
                                        My mama's gone and her cure is no more

                                        There's no more prayer and recess in school
                                        It seems everything now has become man's rule

                                        Those old aporns they wore with money tucked away
                                        Is gone too, like their hair tucked in buns of gray

                                        And those old time zinnas my grandma so loved
                                        They now grace heaven with beauty and love

                                        There's no more plowing with an old mule now
                                        They use big tractors but that old mule sure could plow

                                        There's no more hunting foxes, possums and coons
                                        And sitting by a campfire listening to the dogs croon

                                        That good squirrel gravy and dumplins I still smell
                                        My mama sure could make them so yummy and swell

                                        There's no more sleeping with six in the bed
                                        With three at the foot and three at the head

                                        And sweeping the yard with a worn out broom
                                        Praying for some grass to grow really soon

                                        There's no more swinging on those old grapevines
                                        Or playing hopscotch in the sand with hand drawn lines

                                        There's no more crawling through the barbed wire fence
                                        Trying to escape the bull, we didn't have any sense

                                        Playing in the cold creek was a summer time game
                                        Claiming to fall in on a winter's morning wasn't the same

                                        Going fishing at the old mill pond with fishing pole in hand
                                        Losing track of time, the fishing was so grand

                                        Helping mama find Poke Salad in the early spring
                                        Climbing through the briars and snakes was her thing

                                        Or picking creesy greens from the creek bank each year
                                        Not knowing the difference with mama not here

                                        Going to bed with the chickens on hot summer days
                                        No time change did we have, we got used to the same ways

                                        There's no more robbing the hen's nest in the early morn
                                        Those old hens sure could lay, fed good with corn

                                        Those wonderful old days I loved and once knew
                                         Is now gone and the old ways too

                                        The living was so good, the finest I've ever seen 
                                         I love to go back it makes my heart sing

                                            © Susie Swanson, 2015

12 comments:

  1. Susie, you have such a talent of weaving so many wonderful memories into your poems. This one is very well-done. Hope you are having a nice weekend!

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  2. Yesteryear memories, so beautifully told....
    ~Jo

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  3. Love, love, love this one, Susie! So much of what you have written about was a part of my growing up too. Thanks!!

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  4. Susie, As good as things are for us now...I would love to travel back in time for one more of those olden days.Blessings, xoxo,Susie

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  5. I would love to go back to the olden days any time. As much as we have the electronics and the ease of life today, your poem tells about the beauty that was found in simplicity and nature of olden times. Thanks for share. Please take care of yourself.

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  6. Looking back is good sometimes, Susie, and you have some wonderful memories. I wonder if we really would like it as much as we think if we could go back in time. Life was surely a lot harder then.

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  7. Susie,
    This is a great pome and describes very well the good-old-days in contrast to today. You've done a beautiful job capturing the imagery and the way times have changed.

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  8. Susie,
    I just had to visit your blog again and read again your wonderful poem. It is so heart-warming and brings back many memories of my childhood. My how times have changed! I hope you are well and will have a great weekend.

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