Get Your Premium Membership

Grandads Elixir

I'm no good in a kitchen but, I can cook stuff all the same Around here, say "the recipe" and most folks know my name It hasn't changed in fifty years, and folks still drink it up I've been making it with my granddad since I was just a pup I"ve been racing cars through out these woods since before most learn to drive I've been chased by cops and revenuers, I surprised I'm still alive The funny thing, they know the route, and I always make the border Because if they ever caught me, I would just cancel their order Magic comes from our hard toil Once it travels through the coil We cook it slow on a low boil It's cooked according to old Hoyle It's magic in a glass And it'll put you on your ass In all the years that we've been cooking we've only moved on twice Not because the cops found us, but because of all the mice Grandpappy started cooking when the jobs round here dried up And me, I've been his helper since I was just a pup Everyone's on credit, we all live on iou's There's still no jobs around here, there just isn't no good news But, if folks round here need healing, we've got magic in a jug Our granddads old elixir is a moonshine mountain hug Magic comes from our hard toil Once it travels through the coil We cook it slow on a low boil It's cooked according to old Hoyle It's magic in a glass And it'll put you on your ass

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs