My Favorite Poems
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The Family Reunion by Mel Harris 1998 I went to a family reunion and all my kin was there It was a sobering sight to take a look at the folks whose blood I share They Had come from almost everywhere to renew old family ties, And they had a thing about them that grabbed me by the eyes. I saw a lot of aunts and uncles and lots of cousins too. And lots of kids and they ran wild the place was like a zoo. My brothers and my sisters had brought along their tribe, And they just strut around like lions showing off their pride. There were in-laws by the dozens and they were nice and loud, And when you put them altogether they made a lively crowd. I saw some perfect people and I saw a few with flaws And most were blood related but some were just in-laws. Some were sharp and very smart and never missed a chance And some were lucky just to get both feet inside their pants. Some were big and some were tall and some were short and squat And some were rich and some were poor with nothing in their pot. There were some so cute and pretty they stood out from the flock And some so plain and homely that their face could stop a clock. Some were kind and gentle and would not hurt a fly But some were mean and crazy and made their mamas cry. Some were clean and sober and a joy to be around But some were drunk and stupid and caused a lot of frowns. Lots were young and lots were old and some were in between And you could tell by looking closely they had a common gene. There was every shape and color and every type and size And a thread that ran between them created family ties. I guess our old forefathers would be startled by this crowd And they might stand by proudly or they might cry out loud. Or they might do nothing but stop and stare and wonder with amazement that we are even there. But we are just the grapes that grew from their old vine. And age is what it takes to put the flavor in the wine. And if you travel back in time or climb our family tree you would find our forefathers were much like you and me. Cause all we are is what they were with changes made by time. For all in all that is all we are the product of their vine.
He Did It His Way by K. Sam Harris Born before statehood back in ought six, raised in the depression way out in the sticks, Up every morning at the first break of day, answered no man...He did it his way.. Broke lots of horses, raised lots of cows, hoed lots of cotton, followed lots of plows, peddled lots of produce, just suffice it to say, when it came to farming...He did it his way.. If the fence needed fixing it was bailing wire city, no time for the new stuff and boy what a pity! The wire rusted out and next year would pay by doing it again but...He did it his way.. He ate what he grew and relished it greatly, had a good appetite, that is until lately. Would eat anything from fruit to hay and anything in between...He did it his way.. Died at 91 with a full head of hair. Take a look at his teeth they are all still there, brushed them with whiskey to keep the cavities away, sure must of worked...He did it his way.. He certainly will be missed so... I'm down on the farm doing what I can to help out the family, don't really have a plan. Hanging loose, just rolling with the punches, and lately they been coming in bunched! All the cows are gone and so are the chickens, believe me folks it hurts like the dickens. To be on a farm with no livestock in sight, no Cock-A-Doodle Doo in the middle of the night. My old brothers gone after ninety one years, put him away with very few tears. He was known by many and loved by all, made it thru summer...almost to fall. by K. Sam Harris on a rainy Sunday morning 17 August 1997, a poem about brother Eston who passed away 30 July 1997. |
