The Fearless Five Do It Again

When I go home at reunion time,
Ev'rything seems set to rhyme;
Seems the present's all blacked out
And all cares are put to rout;
Know full well that all will come,
That's the time we get back home.

May, she greets us at the door,
Says, "I'm glad," but meaning more;
Walter shows up 'bout that time,
His expression near sublime.
Bessie grins and looks at May,
"I've been here since yesterday".

Someone comes through the back-yard gate,
Maybe Harry isn't late;
George says, "I'm as fine as silk,
Guess I'd better go and milk".
Julia pulls a timely joke,
Maybe thinks, "I hope you croak".

Table spread in the living room,
All that food somebody's doom;
Each one seems to know his place,
Brother Walter saying Grace.
Dishes, dishes side by side,
All we see is chicken fried.

Wondrous food, the special kind,
Sail right in and go it blind;
Sweet content somehow is felt,
I reach down and loose my belt.
Bessie mutters, "What a treat".
Marv'lous how that gal can eat.

Walter thinks it better than
Pork and Beans out of the can;
Answers not our words of cheer,
Just pretends that he can't hear.
Nor remembers old Woodriver
As he spears a chicken liver.

May insists that eat we must,
Nor would duck if we should bust;
Harry hasn't much to say,
But struts his stuff in the usual way.
Stomachs heavy, hearts are light,
Eat our way into the night.

When dessert is all consumed,
Healthy appetites are doomed,
And each one who's really wise
Pushes chair back, tries to rise;
Sister Bessie, int'rests quicken,
Says, "Will you please pass the chicken?"

Seated then, distended fronts,
Everybody talks at once;
Each one for attention bids
Just as when we all were kids.
Hours long right there we sit,
Brother Harry wants to spit.

No one moves, or tries to duck it,
Sister May brings in a bucket.
Just in time for all of that,
Juicy amber hits ker-splat.
Up to date on fam'ly news,
Bessie slips out of her shoes.

Walter talks of the bus'ness trend,
A deficiency or a dividend,
And Harry, neither sad nor gay,
Says, "I guess that I'm OK".
Sister May, not one to shirk,
Says, "I still can do my work."

Seems it's then about my time,
I present a little rhyme;
Poetry, or who can tell,
May be just plain doggerel.
Inhibitions somehow rids,
Start to bragging 'bout my kids.

Bessie, our young sister fair,
Lays her feet up in a chair;
Seems to meditate a while,
Then a nice, expectant smile;
"Now that all of you are done,
May, is all that chicken gone?"

When the last, last word is said,
Tired old folks crawl up to bed;
Late as nights of youthful prowling,
Stretch out with our innards growling;
"Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep",
Five old has-beens counting sheep.

By: Howard B. Austin