Amelia A. Allen-Ray Poems

Life's full of complexities, never knowing how or fully understanding
the reasons for mere existence. There must be a purpose.
sh!-sh! hush I tell ya, don't say a wurd, membah naw, id whut'n me who tole.
all I know iz whut dey tell me, an' dey tell me de gal had dat chile
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Mood Indigo Blue serenades the social scene as quiet coffins sleeps,
A family like atmosphere of chatter and chuckles, from friday
through sunday...and sometimes in mid-week, meetings are held at Rhue's place. Clinking glasses of Crown Royal, Hennessy and Rum, to
smokeless cigars, and snapping suspenders...stomp on heels of
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Lick, lick, lickety, lick, de cat licks from de spoon—Lob, lob-lob,
lob, lob—Pots boilin' of knuckles n' greens in de early afta noon. As mama would say in an ole' foke rhyme—"boil dat cabbage down,"
"boil dat cabbage down, ain't got time fa foolin' gal, "boil dat cabbage down." Just a slab of poke fat, a pinch uh salt here n' there—bit of shugah
n' peppah tu taste, creates uh perfect family affair. Serve uh mess uh baby bass, n'sweet patatuh by de side—n' possums always best, stewed or baked, but nevah fried. Lick, lick, lickety, lick, de cat licks from de spoon—"Git down from
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