Poem by Ross Berry

"Rooty, toot, toot", I blow my car horn
And wave to an old man, a’plowing his corn
From his John Deere tractor, his trusty green slave
He returns a broad grin and a vigorous wave

As the car nears the barn, I espy a brown cow
And a woman with milk-pail and bonneted brow
Who’s sitting there pulling real hard on an udder
To squeeze enough milk to make some fine butter!

And she looks as my car turns into her front drive
And she greets me, a’waving her fingers, all five
Now soon, both are racing straight up toward the house
The man who was plowing . . . and his bonneted spouse

And before long I feel two enormous bear- hugs
And I’m moistened with kisses from two loving mugs
And soon I am ushered into the big house
Of Grandpa Earl Tucker . . . and Dicie, his spouse

And they earnestly query: "Just how have you been?"
So I tell them the latest about all our kin
Then Grandma hops up, and she washes her hands;
And starts pulling out her pots and her pans

The house soon fills, with aromas delicious
While she sets the table with spoons, forks, and dishes
And calls to us men-folks to "Wash up and come"
And when we see the table, we both say, "Yum-yum!"

We sit down and bow all our heads, for a blessing
Before we dig in to her chicken and dressing
. . . and biscuits and taters, and gravy and greens
pop goes a rivet on my pair of jeans!

Then she fills my big glass with milk, to the top
Before I can protest: "Whoa, Grandma! Please stop!"
She pours, while opining: "You need lots of milk,
It will whiten your teeth, make you strong as an elk!"

So I swallow it down, though it makes me feel grim,
Then she jumps up and fills it back up to the brim!
Then a blackberry cobbler, she pulls from her stove
And she serves me a bowl, saying: "Eat ‘fore you rove!"

After all that my stomach yells, "Ouch!"
So I limp in and flop on their living room couch
But Grandma is cleaning up helter and skelter
While Grandpa is downing a glass full of seltzer

Later, we men, go out for a walk
to look at the crops, and the livestock, and talk
While viewing his chickens, his pigs, cows and stuff
He stands around dipping and spitting his snuff

And he shows me the traps in his soy bean patch
And brags of the rabbits, he’s sure he will catch
Then from his pocket he pulls out some arrows
And says: " I found these right there in those furrows"

For Indians once lived there and hunted his land
And fashioned the missiles he holds in his hand
We mosey on back to the house as we talk
And I break off, and chew on, a sassafras stalk

There in her yard, Grandma stands with a bucket,
And the rooster is crowing, and the hens are "a’clucket"
She’s gathered some eggs from the nests in the coop
And her bucket’s so full, that her shoulders now stoop

And she says: "Take my bucket, and give me some ease"
Then she heads for the garden to pick some fresh peas!
While I take those eggs on up to the house
I notice their Tom-cat is chasing a mouse

And Ole Butch, the dog, has found him a snake,
And is barking so shrilly, it makes my ears ache!
To the well, with a bucket, heads Gramps with a dipper
And he pumps the pump-handle, ‘til water’s a’drip there

And he drinks long and hard, while he puffs and he blows
Then he hands me the dipper, for I’m thirsty, he knows
With her peas in her apron, Gram comes marching back
And presents a tomato, to me, for a snack

So, we head to the porch, to sit in the swing
And we shell out those peas, while the whippoorwills sing
"Isn’t life grand!?", I sigh. Then I chuckle
For I’m having a great time, with this fine old couple!

Then I silently thank the Great God, above us
Who gave us grandparents, and others, to love us
And who lets us have memories of times that are gone,
So we can revisit the past, on and on

Now, I long for those days when I sought out the house.
Of the man who was plowing, and his bonneted spouse!
How I wish for those times, for those wonderful days . . .
But they’ve gone with the wind,
. . . and the mist and the haze!

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[This poem concerns, Earl and Dicie (Burch) Tucker, my maternal grandparents.
They were born and raised in Pope County, Arkansas - in the Boston Mountains. They moved to Jackson County, and then to Woodruff County, in 1923, then up to northeast Arkansas in the 1940’s, to Greene County. They lived and farmed there, near Paragould, and later near Halliday, until Earl had some strokes in the early 1960’s. Then they moved to Rochester Hills, Michigan to be near their children and grandchildren. I lived with them in 1958 and 1959, while they were there on the farm in Greene County. This poem combines some of the many memories I have of them. They were a wonderful couple!
Earl lived from March 5,1894 - Nov. 26, 1964. Dicie lived from March 8, 1897 until July 22, 1995. (Earl lived to age 70, and Dicie until age 98).They are buried at the Crescent Hills Cemetery in Waterford, Michigan.]