Friday, July 24, 2009

In Honor of Girlichef's Assignment - Outdoor Food

Dedicated to my south Georgia ancestors. It was much cooler under the shade tree in the evening, than it was in their house with the hot tin roof. I remember those times at my grandfather's house as a small child.



Beneath this old umbrella oak
We spin our yarns and tell our jokes,
Drink lemonade with country folk.
They drop by here to wish us well,
To grab a chair and sit a spell.
So, come my friend; we'll reminisce
About the bygone years we miss
And simpler days of childhood bliss.
We'll fry hush puppies, catfish, too.
We went last night and caught a few.
You know, we brag and stretch a bit
About the size of fish we get,
But, it's alright! That's southern wit!
What fun I've had and love I've felt
With poor folk from the Bible belt.
I think of all the Good Book said
About the fish, the loaves of bread,
And multitude the Savior fed.
If only they could come and share
This shady spot and grab a chair.
We'd make new friends beneath this tree.
The Lord would come, and we would see
His Southern hospitality.
We common folk would all be fed
When, at His knee, we'd break some bread.
I hate to hear you've got to go!
We sure enjoyed your visit, though.
Be careful on those muddy roads.
Your family's such a welcome sight!
Y'all come again. God bless. Good night.
Copyright - Gordon Hand
Photo of blue chairs under the oak tree was used by permission of Janie, from Mississippi, over at Go by and visit her blog. I have requested she join our group.


  1. I could see them sitting under that big oak. Wonderful picture you painted with your words.

  2. I come to your blog via the folks at the Great Wall of Lutz, as a Florida resident you can understand how the name of your blog caught my eye. Upon my arrival, what do I see? "Dedicated to my south Georgia ancestors." So I see we have something else in common.

    I was born in Georgia, but moved to California when I was very young. We would make the trip to south Georgia each summer and I remember sitting under the shade of the trees, sipping lemonade and running carefree with my cousins. As I grew and made my life in California, these visits became less and less frequent until they finally stopped. News of the family came from my parents or now and then a phone call. They say you can never go home, but I did. Several years ago I went again to the town of Douglas, where the cabin my great-grandfather built in 1884 still stands (sort of) on land still owned by my daddy's cousin. I sit under the same tree I did as a child, sipping lemonade, snapping beans, and shooting the breeze with family. I bring photos of us from so many years ago, under that very tree, to share and know that I am home again.

    I visit cemeteries with camera in hand, where ancestors are buried with their stories. I unearth little tidbits of info and feel a connection to this place once forgotten and know that I am home again.

    Thank you for sharing your memories and bringing back mine once again.

  3. Gordon that is so nice - did you whip it up now or pull from your "book", you know your book of poems. I can feel the memory of the times when what you did is sit out in your yard and talk with friends and family - just doesn't seem to happen anymore - another great 'reflection'.....

  4. Really inspiring. I am so excited with this theme very much. Thanks for sharing the great stories. It inspires me always.

  5. Gordon, your poem paints a lovely picture of simpler times and bygone days to which we all can relate, and, if the truth be known, probably pine for. You have a wonderful way with words.

    I look forward to reading some of your older posts, and appreciate the invitation to participate in your "Friday Shoot-Outs."



  6. Beautiful Gordon!!! I emailed you back, sorry it took so long, I've been working non-stop and just got to check my mail...throughout the whole week, too!!!

  7. That was wonderful! Thanks for sharing :)