~An Hour With You~

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I reminisce of years long past,
Our living back in the country,
Mother was a jack of all trade,
She was a one person industry.

Rising early to build a fire,
The wood stove took a long time to heat,
Busy cooking smoked ham, eggs and,
Homemade buttermilk biscuits to eat.

Singing low beneath her breath,
I'll fly away oh Glory,
Pouring milk into the churn,
Then making red-eye gravy.

Calling us kids to get up,
"Get a move on you'll be late",
Sitting 'round a long table,
Saying Grace o'er a filled plate.

Daddy's feeding the chickens,
He still has the hogs to slop,
Mules waiting to plant the fields,
Seeds from the hopper will drop.

Cotton sacks thrown across the fence,
Ready for us to fill with cotton,
Backbreaking work dreaded by all,
Hard days not easily forgotten.

I look back in time to youthful parents,
Teaching their children wrong from right,
Livelihood earned by the sweat of the brow,
Family bonds were woven e'er tight.

I cherish the upbringing I had,
Though times were pretty rough,
We managed to have what we needed,
God supplied us with enough.

Now the children have children,
Mom and Dad have traveled on,
One day we will all join them,
Gathering 'round Jesus' throne.

Gayle Davisİ
10 February 2007



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Music: "Visions Of Time Gone By"

Original music By: Mel Webbİ
Used With Permission


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