BORNED WE WUZ

BORNED WE WUZ

G.W. NEWTON

Borned we wuz, en rased up so,

Maw slicked ar har, en off we'd go.

Ter school er church, we looked th' same;

our clean, arned close, an Pa's good name.

They wuz us four, en then four more

A big yard full, en 'ats fer shore.

Maw birthed a kid ever other yar,

Fer mor'n two decades, by gar.

At school, most ever class en grade,

In church, a hole big banch we made.

A deacon's young'uns at's fer certain, 

An we behaved or got a hurtin.

Pa wuz smart, no help he har'd;

His field hands wuz in his yard.

But all good thangs will end they say,

Pa's good thangs growed up, en flew away.

The tales ben told, en this I say,

We love each other to this day.

MY GRANDPA

(ANON)

Grandpa, I said, as I sat on his knee

Tell me some stories that used to be.

Well he said honey, there once was a man,

Who lived over yonder that settled this land.

He built him a cabin out of some pine,

And built him some furnishings 

with what he could he could find.

He raised him a family,I think about ten,

And now all of his young'uns have grown into men.

He plowed the fields and planted the crops;

You'd think them poor, but they really had lots.

I remember the time a baby was born;

they made all of its clothes from some that were worn.

They got up at daybreak, and worked until night;

Using wax candles if they needed light.

They made their own butter with milk from a cow,

Ate food from the gardens they made with a plow.

And the clothes they wore proudly on their back,

Were made with material from the old flour sack.

On Sunday they rested from all of their labors,

And met at the church with their friends and neighbors.

Sometimes they had dinner, what they call; "on the ground",

and no better food in the world could be found.

The love of this family could never be told,

For it was it was more priceless than silver or gold.

I saw a tear trickle down Grandpas's face,

And a smile on his lips that seemed frozen in place.

I jumped from his lap and patted his hand,

For I knew my Grandpa had been this great man.

Little Girls Grow Up

G. W. Newton- 1978

Little girls grow up; their Papas don't

It's cause he can't, not cause he won't.

When first he hears her sweet ooo goo,

His growing up is through.

First step she made, hand round his finger,

T'was decided then, he'd ever linger.

Arms 'round his neck, sweet loving kiss;

Who'd ever leave this state of bliss?

The lovely trill of her sweet laughter,

Decided there he'd stay forever after.

She learned to talk; boy how she could.

With hopes and dreams, she raced thru childhood.

Birthdays passed with puppies, dolls, and toys,

schools, horses, secrets, and boys.

No captive of time, knowing few peers,

To be a doctor, or lawyer, held for her no fears.

She loved the world, the times, the places,

She helped the helpless with her sweet graces.

Each new day met, each new dream captured,

While he hung suspended, enraptured.

He watched her soar, and thru it all,

Was there to catch her when she'd fall.

He held her thru each stage she passed,

Because he loved, without being asked.

So she matured, 'tis the nature of girls,

To find other loves; to seek other worlds.

A baby, a child, a woman, a wife;

I love you Papa, but I must live My life.

He was stunned; unable to move,

Not understanding, how could he approve.

Where went that child who made life so good?

Why, it's simple; she's entered womanhood.

So life goes on; Papa grows old and gaunt;

And little girls grow up: Their Papas don't.

(For Angela and Vanessa) 1978