Pickin’ Cotton Poem by Marilyn Lott

Pickin’ cotton was such hard work
Kids started at an early age
Waited until it was fluffy white
Then picked at that perfect stage

Sun beatin’ down upon their heads
Sister Clara always did her best
Plucking off the cotton bolls
You can see she passed the test

Then the cotton gin came along
As time moved toward progress
But still sometimes folks worked
Way into the cooling sunset

Then it was packed into firm bales
And hauled off on down the road
A lot of cotton on that truck
It was a large and sturdy load

Thank goodness there were folks
Who worked in the boiling sun
So folks could have clothes on their backs
It’s a job that couldn’t be fun

And when you hear stories
Of what folks remember back then
Never have I heard the story
That they’d like to go back again!