Gumbo
Gumbo
When the cold wind blows in the evenings;
And the black snake can't be found.
When the rain falls on the pine trees;
And there's frost upon the ground.
When the rooster sets a'stewing;
And there's crawfish in the pot.
When Momma's busy stirring;
Can you guess just what we've got?
Dark and rich and tasty;
It smells so awful nice.
On the back of the stove there's waiting;
A pot of long grain rice.
When the sky turns grey and cloudy,
And school kids hope for snow.
Momma checks her spices;
She's gonna cook a big Gumbo.
Onions, leeks and celery;
And a bit of chicken fat.
Seafood, game and sausage,
But the Roux is where it's at.
Warm, dark, awesome gravy;
A gift from God above,
It carries precious memories;
Made with a Mother's love.
Time flows on like a river;
But this we can conclude.
For bringing us together,
There is nothing quite like food.
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