Gravy Bread

Simple were my tastes as a Hoosier country boy. I'd heard of the fancy grub enjoyed by the hoi polloi, But what set my youthful taste buds aquiver instead, Was a helpin' of Mom's home-baked ham and gravy bread! How I hated gettin' out of bed on a frosty winter's dawn, Tryin' to awake, strugglin' to put my red flannels on. Ah! But the aroma from the kitchen meant I was to be fed, A servin' of Mom's fried pertaters and gravy bread! On the Hoosier farm there were mornin' chores to be done, Milkin' cows and sloppin' hogs, neither of which was fun. But just thinkin' about breakfast and the treat that lay ahead, Knowin' Mom was fryin' eggs and fixin' gravy bread! In the service when the bugler blew a rousin' reveille, I knew that powered milk and eggs in the mess awaited me! Oh! How I yearned for Mom's zesty blackberry spread, And a heapin' plate of bacon and scrumptious gravy bread! I've traveled o'er this globe and sampled fancy fare, But I've yet to find anything that will ever compare, To risin' from my slumber and seein' the board spread, With good old country fare, especially that tasty gravy bread! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)