Gram's Sunday Dinner
Sitting in church on a warm Sunday morn
we were thinking of food as the service drug on
Instead of the sermon, we could hear tummies rumble
in spite of my Grandpa, who grumbled and yawned
Pews hard, and uncomfortable, and fannies would squirm
waiting to hear the preacher's last word
A prayer and a song, and the very last one
at last it was time we could finally walk home
.....
Once out in the sunlight, and on to the house
In a state of starvation, and patience long gone
Our lips in a quiver our salvation would be
to sit at a table filled with Grandma's reprieve!
Gram had been up quite early, since the first crack of dawn,
Mashing potatoes, and a bird, golden brown,
With gravy and dumplings, and tomatoes still warm
straight from her garden, with vinegar, poured
and pies from her baking during yesterday's chores
She would pray to the Lord, reverently asking for peace
Also "Please, Oh My Lord, when they flock here like geese
Hungry and squawking , and honking to eat
may they be always grateful for blessings we keep
and praise all my cooking as they take leave"
Smiles, and full bellies...It's what Sunday was for
Grandpa held hands, bowed his head, then to pray
and was always quite grateful for his blessings that day
But he also would add, to the blessings that day
"Oh Lord", help that preacher have a bit less to say!"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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