PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When the frost is on the fodder

and wind shakes the window panes

go and hitch up both the horses

cause it's time to grind the cane

The syrup kettle's in the cane shed

with it's sides as black as coal

and it's a good day for the cooking

for the day is dry and cold

Now Daddy's down there in the cane patch

with the wagons loaded high

and just the thought of syrup a boiling

makes me holler, my oh my

Now the old horse just keeps trotting

round and round the old cane presss

and sweet juice keeps pouring from it

by he gallon, more or less

And now the juice is bubbling

with skinmmings coming to the top

Daddy say's that they are poison

and as for eating, we must stop

But the skimmings are delicious

as you spoon them in the plate

for pretty soon they all will harden

and make syrup candy that is great

Momma washed up all the bottles

they're scalded now, and set to dry

and when the syrup boils thick and savory

she'll fill those bottles high

Oh it's such a wondrous picture

those good old days of yore

and I wish that I could live it

just like we did before

I wish that I could just go back

to the grinding of the cane

syrup that made Mom's biscuits taste so good

oh, I'd love to eat them once again

But alas, it all is gone now

just dear memories of  the long ago

and I can only see it in my dreams

that life, so sweet and slow