White Lightnin

It's a proud family tradition

Here in the hills of Tennessee

My grand daddy brewed White Ligntin

And my daddy, before me.


It's just Cornmeal, water and yeast

Brewed in the family still.

Them revenuers can't find the place

They probably never will.


Don't drink it down, you sip it slow

It kicks like a stubborn ole mule.

There's a reason it's called White Lightnin

Some folks call it fuel.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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Ramage Avatar
July 27, 2011 at 12:48 AM
Sounds like it might pack a punch! well done. Lee
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