Tom Wright Poet Lyric

The Spit and Whittle Club

The Spit & Whittle Club
As remembered: by Miracle Man
3-21-2020

As a kid it was always town on Saturday,
horses and wagons dotted our main street.
 Tied to curb rings up and down Broadway,
then penny candy, was sometimes a treat.

Many had come to gin a weeks cotton,
and buy flour and coffee for another week.
Times back then would today seem rotten,
But that was life and times were bleak.

Worn out by years, older men would sit,
they did this having nothing pressing to do.
On a bench swapping yarns to whittle, and spit,
and think, at days end, how the time flew.


All older men needed was a plug of Brown’s Mule,
and a pocket knife, and of course a stick.
Tom

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David Mchattie March 21, 2020 at 6:03 PM A simpler time indeed. Wonderful poem. Have a great day.

Mark Koplin March 21, 2020 at 3:52 PM Great poem. It brings about some happy thoughts of simpler times.

Quoth Theraven March 21, 2020 at 3:49 PM Tom, Good memories.,maybe. Those were the days of Summer sitting out front of the local store where only a few belonged. I wanted to get clear of that one horse town. And, on occasion, afraid never to return. -Richard Tom Wright March 23, 2020 at 5:11 AM At seventeen i left home and went to San Diego where i spent the next five years before deciding city life wasn't making me happy. I missed the seasons and the things i grew up doing. I guess this old saying applied to me; "You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy." Hope you have a great week and stay strong. Tom