Growing Up Country Poem by Marilyn Lott

I remember as a child many years ago
Spending time in the country air
Picnics under the warm blue skies
Going to those great country fairs

Watching the cows and their babies
Chewing their cuds and strolling along
I loved to sit on a log for hours
Humming an old country song

And the chickens, how I loved to spend
Time sittin' in the hen house as well
Listening to the cackling of laying hens
In the home where these birds would dwell

Sniffing the hay up high in the loft
As you climb up that ‘ole ladder
Watching mama in the kitchen
Stirring up a delicious cake batter

She'd punch bread dough with a fist
And let it rise nice and high
Oh, the smell of that bakin' bread
Makes me let out a wistful sigh

Seein' daddy chop up the wood
I can hear the sound of it still
The warmth and crackle of the fire
I can still hear it too at will

Ah, yes sir, a life that truly was
A perfect one for my brother and me
If I had my life to live over again
I would still be growing up country!