Here I sit in my easy chair Thinkin' 'bout old times again I've lived more years than I have left And I love rememberin' when Bow A favorite memory I ponder on Is what I called Mother's habit She couldn't pass a berry of any kind Without reachin' down to grab it Bow Berry pickin' was one of the chores That Mother did with the greatest pleasure It never really seemed like work to her She treated it like a task of leisure Bow Any time there were berries to pick She was as happy as a little child And worked the field for several hours Pickin' strawberries that came up wild Bow The only drawback to this quirk of hers Was that we all had to help pick Fightin' thorns, mosquitoes and spiders We got tired of it pretty darn quick Bow Mother wouldn't let us stop pickin' Until all the lard buckets were filled And when the pickin' was finally done You never saw a bunch of kids more thrilled Bow After we had all gone back to the house Mother was still out there pickin' I guess she was like that famous watch That took a lickin' but kept on tickin' Bow I have to say we reaped the rewards Of the times that we all picked berries There were jams and jellies and even cakes And warm pies just oozin' with cherries Bow Our parents have been gone for many years And seven children are now past their prime But I'd fight the spiders, the thorns and heat To experience that one more time Bow Kathleen McCoy EldridgeŠ July 3, 2006 All Rights Reserved




    "Little Things Mean A Lot"
Sequenced by Gloria Canfield