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.