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POETRY ABOUT LIFE - Page 9
by Bill Childers

 Table of Contents


Country Road
The Best
About Being a Neighbor
 

 Country Road


I'd known paved streets, a ten-story building,
Never been down a country road.
Never seen a wagon load,
Or a field fresh-mowed...
Or felt the barbs of a horned toad!

] didn't miss 'em much, cause I never had 'em.
We didn't live high-en-the-ladder.
What made it sadder,
Not that it really mattered...
I had no dreams that could be shattered.

I found my country road in North Carolina,
A way-up from old Alabam',
Where they didn't give a damn
If you forgot Uncle Sam...
So as you remember the gravy from the ham!

It was a road that seemed to go on forever
With fields that seemed to reach eternity.
There were tobacco fields to see,
And hidden places to be...
And space that made you feel free!

There was Christmas in the big old house
Where Santa found us anyway.
He brought games to play...
We had turkey the next day...
Daddy said, "Let's don't forget to pray".

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 The Best


When I asked my mother
How she made her pie,
Before she said a word,
I'd hear a gentle sigh.

She'd seem to think a minute
On just how to begin,
Or, maybe, just maybe...
How the best tale to spin.

She'd start off with saying,
"You take a pinch of this,
And, then, a dab of that,
Then, fold them in a dish.

"You add about this much
Of flour to give it body,
And, a little milk is good
So it won't be shoddy.

"Then you keep on a-mixing
"'Til you get it...just right
And, sometimes you won't know…
'Tit you take the first bite.
You see, Bud. the proof
Is in the pudding... not the sight!"

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 About Being a Neighbor


I'm sitting here, trying to think
Of what to say about neighbors and such,
Asking myself if I really know,
And... if I really care that much!

I mean, I always seemed to know
Who lived next door, and across the way.
I played with the other kids,
And, I was in their house most every day.

And, I joined the Cub and Boy Scouts.
Knew who every single member was.
And, then, in school I found out…
One mostly does like everybody else does.

Then, as I traveled along the road
There were so many different folk.
There were different colors and kinds,
I just didn't know where to take hold.

I heard others talk about neighbors,
But, not the ones living next door.
They seemed not to think in distance,
Or, about whether one knew the score.

They talked, rather, about caring,
And, about offering a helping hand,
And, about reaching... and touching,
And, about being willing to take a stand.

I think I'm learning a different thing…
About what being a neighbor… will bring.

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