I am blessed to have come from parents with two
large families, resulting in lots of first cousins (& 2nd &
further) whom I love dearly and with whom I had lots of adventures growing
up. One of my cousins, Jan McKay Hall,
left this earth yesterday to roam in more pleasant pastures. Sweetness defined Jan and she will be missed
very much.
On a lighter note, I wrote this poem for Jan and her
sister, Connie, about one of our childhood adventures.
Red Dirt Cousins
Three girl cousins ramblin around
South Second Street in a Mississippi town.
Hot summer day, lookin for some fun,
Red clay gullies, let's scoot down em.
Butts of shorts full of thick red dirt
Ridin down crevices in hot southern earth.
Not lookin pretty, but what do we care
If it lifts us out of this stifling thick air?
The dirtier we got,
The more our delight!
So intent were we,
Too late did we see….
Hey Uncle Gene, are you home for the day?
Time for dinner, is that what you say?
What? You’re not happy with the fruit of our play?
Uh oh, us, looks like trouble to pay!
Get over here girls and hose yourselves off!
Tear up your butts is what I really ought!
Good Lord, now! What a mess you’ve made!
Believe you were caught in a dirt grenade!
Downcast, downtrodden, clean ourselves up,
Now we’re fresh as triple buttercups!
But what can revive our newly gloomy bent?
Peas, corn & taters to a large extent!
Girls, now I’ve got to go back to work.
See if you can manage to stay out of that dirt.
Cause if you don’t you can count on this:
Tails so blistered you won’t soon want to sit!
Three girl cousins ramblin around
South Second Street in a Mississippi town.
Hot summer day, lookin for some fun,
Red clay gullies, let's scoot down em.
Butts of shorts full of thick red dirt
Ridin down crevices in hot southern earth.
Not lookin pretty, but what do we care
If it lifts us out of this stifling thick air?
The dirtier we got,
The more our delight!
So intent were we,
Too late did we see….
Hey Uncle Gene, are you home for the day?
Time for dinner, is that what you say?
What? You’re not happy with the fruit of our play?
Uh oh, us, looks like trouble to pay!
Get over here girls and hose yourselves off!
Tear up your butts is what I really ought!
Good Lord, now! What a mess you’ve made!
Believe you were caught in a dirt grenade!
Downcast, downtrodden, clean ourselves up,
Now we’re fresh as triple buttercups!
But what can revive our newly gloomy bent?
Peas, corn & taters to a large extent!
Girls, now I’ve got to go back to work.
See if you can manage to stay out of that dirt.
Cause if you don’t you can count on this:
Tails so blistered you won’t soon want to sit!
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