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Updated: Apr 19, 2021

When out on the crest,

Of the field hill I spied,

As far as my eyes could see,

The pure white glow,

Of Alabama snow,

filled my heart with glee,

Cause, you see,

A day or two,

Off from school,

October it would be,

To pick and sack,

and sack and pick,

As far as one could see,

Together w’ed all go,

To pick a peck, a bale or two,

Of pure Alabama gold.

The years pass on,

And I reflect upon,

Those cotton picking days of cotton,

We’ve nie near completely forgotton,

The ways we did things misbegotten,

you ask me what we should have done?

”We should’ave picked our own cotton“*

Aurthor’s Notes: It ended pretty much with my generation, but every 2nd week of October schools in the South let out so everyone could pick cotton. Cotton picking wasn’t all that much fun, cause your hands got all scratched up from the prickly stems on the cotton plants. We would race each other to see who could fill their shoulder bags first and most. Anything, anything to get outta 🎶school days, school days, good ole’ golden rule days🎶

*A phrase attributed to my dear friend, Paul Byler. Photo by me from my bike traveling the Alabama two lane backroads down by the Flint River back up a’ways from the noisy wooden planked bridge and Mrs. Smith’s old dilapidated Gulf Station.

You know, in case you haven’t noticed, there are some killer poems back on the HOME PAGE. Just click on POETRY tab at the top😉

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1 comentario

Barbara Robertson
Barbara Robertson
24 feb 2021

Love the poems. Love the comments.

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