The Plantation

The old farm house had been standing since the nineteenth century
I would arrive at the base of its tall wooden steps each morning
Climbing to the massive porch which surrounded three of its sides
I could smell the wood smoke from the weathered chimney in the air

Entering the screen door, I would pass the idol old porch swing
The living room, warm with a gentle fire and heated stone hearth
Rocking chairs perched on each side, one holding my great uncle’s smile
My Aunt calling me from the kitchen to come and get breakfast

Sitting at the table, with warm biscuits, eggs, and fresh sausage
Reaching for the coffee pot on the wood burning kitchen stove
She’d tell me to eat plenty; it will be a long time ‘til lunch
I made a couple of biscuit and sausage snacks for later

After breakfast, I would tread down the western porch stairs to work
Stopping, before reaching the barn, I turned and gazed at the house
I thought of the history of the grand old plantation place
With its classic design, complete with the endless high porches

It was painted white, although it had long since faded, to grey
The screened in back porch, led to from the kitchen, and back bedrooms
I had passed through the western hall through more bedrooms and a bath
Latter having been installed in recent years; no more outhouse

In front of the great north porch stood an ancient giant oak tree
Planted by a quiet ancestor, it towered above the house
Its huge roots provide a seat for one to sit and have a chew
Turning back toward the barn I walked for the old sleeping tractor

I would spend the day in the field, until dark, plowing the soil
Returning to the house at midday for another great meal
Mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas, and a slice of home butchered ham
Then back in the evening for supper, with hot fried chicken

I would stay for a short chat and a chew sitting on the hearth
Spitting into the fire and listening to tales of distant past
Eventually, saying my goodbyes and out to the truck
Riding home, I smelled the soil and fresh air through the cracked window

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Thanks my friends for all the positive comments on "I". This is another story of my early years. Enjoy!