I Came From the Country

I come from the country,I'm proud to say, Playing with rocks in the creek,half of the day. Watching my grandmother wash clothes on an old time washboard, Times was hard,that’s all she could afford. I remember my grandfather would set and whittle with his pocketknife, Telling jokes to us kids,that was the life. Playing in the hills with sticks and a rocks, Coming home with dirt and holes all in our socks. Suppertime we had pinto beans and cornbread, When we get holes in our clothes,my mom would used a needle and thread. To dry our clothes we used clothesline and pins, When they dried,put them in a basket and brought them in. I sure miss those days,when family came in,they would give you an old country hug, At night we would catch lightening bugs. I remember watching my mom can,in an old jar, We couldn’t even afford a junk car. These days are gone,and have passed, But never forgotten,it was a blast.