Call Me Countrified
poem by:
Janet Vick
Written
on Jan 11, 2014
Some people may call me countrified ‘cause I don’t carry a germicide, nor reach for a cell phone, check e-mail, then bemoan, nor hold grudges or be evil-eyed. My clothes are not for the dignified, rather thin on the knees and backside. Wearing bra’s overblown like the ‘saline curbstone’... and don’t know how to be ‘goggle-eyed’. I hold honesty foremost as guide, never slant just because I’m cross-eyed. Yeah, the kids call me crone breaking chicken wishbone and they run ‘cause by then I’m squint-eyed.
Tags: humor, rhyme,
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George McLaren commented:
Hi Janet. Love the rhyming, humour and the brilliant play with and on words. Hope you good. George.
greg woods
commented:
Janet, this a nice poem about simple living and turning back the clock, or at least ignoring it and staying in a time we enjoy. I lived in a town like this once. It was a gold mining town of old which had almost become a ghost town except for a few a. It created its own breed of people as more moved back there for the unique lifestyle it offered. Well done.
