Grits (Aft. Elizabeth Alexander) Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi
Grits (Aft. Elizabeth Alexander)
How I love Sunday mornings after church
We would make a Southern breakfast of grits
Having mine swimming in a pound of butter
With several dashes of pepper and salt
I would have eaten it so fast
My mamma would tell me to hold on
And ask me if I wanted more
' No Ma'am' I would say 'I'm stuffed'
Then, getting a tall glass
I pour the orange juice to the tip
And in a flash, it would be gone
As the juice wet my palate
My mamma would look at me with disgust
After, I would put my jeans, t-shirt,
And sneakers
Then, we would spend the day doing nothing
Except riding around in the car
What nice fond memories, so well expressed, appeared before us, in your Sunday's best. I reallyenjoyed
Oh yes...the good ole days! Life was so much simpler back then. And people seemed so much more pleasant. The food was great. Been meaning to try those grits. And life was so much more fun! Thanks for the memories, LeeAnn!
That's a lovely family time. Love the details. That's real life..... happiness is in small things, the holidays and family gatherings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 4:48:09 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
This poem so very much! A real joy. Thank you and all the best!