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C.D. KEITH
POETIC MEMOIRS 4
Hope
Written for my niece, Barbara Keith,
At the time of her High School Graduation.
It's Just a little teaspoon,
I hope you like it, though.
I hope you'll get a whole lot more,
From other folks you know.
I hope someday you'll marry,
Before you get too old.
I hope you find a real nice guy,
Who has a lot of gold.
Right now you think you want a "doll",
With a great big diamond ring.
But when your dream has ended,
You'll settle for any old thing.
So put this in your hope chest,
And hope, and hope, and hope.
By using every trick you know,
Perhaps you'll catch some dope.
----C.D.Keith----
Going Fishing
My wife has thought up lots of things,
She'd like to have me do.
The window screens all need repair,
Perhaps, need painting too.
The garden fence is falling down,
The weeds and grass are bad.
But when I think of hoeing,
It make's me kind of sad.
The wind broke off the barrdoor hinge,
It ought to be fixed back.
A plank fell through on the old back porch,
And left an awful crack.
I don't know when the well rope broke,
I guess it's been a spell.
I sure would like to have a drink,
But the bucket's in the well.
The cows are out of the pasture,
The gate latch just won't hold.
There's one whole window broken out,
But then, it's not much cold.
I don't know which should be done first,
So what's the use of wishing.
I've got a great big can of worms,
I think I'll just go fishing.
----C.D.Keith---
Tired And Weary
I never did hoe in a new ground field,
And I ain't picked much cotton.
I never did plow a mule at all,
If I did, I've "shore" forgotten.
And I've got an idea, that if I had plowed,
To forget would be real hard.
But I've done an awfule lot of work,
Which left me old and tired.
I worked thirty years in a hosiery mill,
With not much money made.
I've boarded socks, as many a day,
At a hundred and ten in the shade.
Now you may have worked even harder than that,
With very little to show.
But one of these days when work is done,
There's a place I want to go.
If I read in the "Word" is true,
And of this I have no doubt.
I'm going to a beautiful place of rest,
With the work all taken out.
I'm looking today for the Lord to come,
It surely won't be long.
'Til He comes with a shout and the trump of God
To take His children home.
---C.D.Keith---
Don't Drink
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging,
Says Proverbs twenty and one.
But we see many people who do not agree,
They think that imbibing is fun.
But a man who starts lightly and has self control,
Soon finds his control on the wane.
At first it's one glass, then soon it is two,
He tries it again and again.
He starts in with wine, or maybe a beer,
To relax him when he reaches home.
By the time he has traded the wine for Old Crow,
He is restless and starting to roam.
According to Solomon, he is deceived,
And comes under heading Unwise.
He found thirst a monster, he could not control,
From the gutter it's hard to arise.
So take the advise of the wisest of men,
And don't take the first glass of wine.
If you are reluctant to take his advice,
I pray then that you will take mine.
---C.D.Keith---
Dinner On The Ground
Decicated to the Rhythm Boys
I used to be with a singing group,
'Twas named "The Rhythm Boys".
We sang to people far and near,
And always shared their joys.
We had a weekly briadcast,
On W-R-O-M.
We sang the very latest songs,
With now and then a hymn.
We did a lot of concerts,
And singings all around.
At all day singings here and there,
With "Dinner on the Ground".
It really wasn't on the ground,
They put it on a table.
"The Rhythm Boys" would eat and eat,
As long as we were able.
A fried pie platter any time,
Was really my delight.
I'd sneak away with the entire plate,
And get off out of sight.
The others soon would spot me,
And then come on the run.
To you this may sound silly,
But boy, did we have fun.
Sometimes I'd like to go again,
With "The Rhythm Boys" around.
To another all day singing,
With dinner on the ground.
---C.D.Keith---
Carters
I often think about the things,
My father used to say.
And many of his sayings,
Would sound quite odd today.
He'd talk about a man of wealth,
And oft' say, as a rule.
I have an idea that that man,
Is rich as old J. Goul.
Why he's got so much money,
He feeds it to his goats.
He's got more hundred dollar bills,
Than Carter has got oats.
I reckon Carter sold his oats,
Perhaps to pay his bills.
He may have bought a lot of stuff,
To make his liver pills.
But Congress up and passed a bill,
That made him drop the liver.
Which left him only little pills,
That didn't cure a quiver.
Then Carter up and bought a farm,
Somewhere down close to Plains.
He grew so many peanuts,
It almost gave me pains.
He grew the peanuts by the ton,
And shipped them down to Macon.
And then he ran for Governor,
And came home with the becan.
Now this was just a stepping stone,
But what a con-fron-tation.
He breezed into the White House,
Prepared to run the nation.
One Carter started raisning oats,
Another selling pills.
I hope that Jimmy fixes things,
So I can pay my bills.
---C.D.Keith---
Remember
Do you remember way back when?
We often hear men say.
Yes, I remember way back then,
Much better than today.
Sliced bacon frying in the pan,
Enough to go around.
The very best that you could buy,
Just eighteen cents a pound.
Back when you walked acroos the road,
No trick to stay alive.
And you could buy good "Coneys",
At six for twenty-five.
With gasoline at nineteen cents,
The same prices near and far.
That didn't benefit me much,
I never owned a car.
We bought a pencil for one cent,
A nickel for a pad.
And "Lucky Strikes" for fifteen cents,
And that was not so bad.
I sorted socks in a boarding room,
And worked ten hours a day.
And then I waited two fulle weeks,
Before I drew my pay.
I earned eleven cents per hour,
Which seems to you small pay.
But then one dime would buy more food,
Than two whole bucks today.
I'd take a new five dollar bill,
My grocery bill to pay.
And have at least a dollar left,
To take back home that day.
---C.D.Keith---
Nature Praises God
Do you know why the flowers bloom,
So early in the spring?
And did you ever wonder why,
The little birds all sing?
The trees put on their brightest robes,
The meadows cloak with green?
And why the call of the night hawk,
That very few have seen?
Why the fruit trees bloom in the springtime,
And then put on their fruit?
And then when all the fruit is gone,
They don a gorgeous suit?
In the wintertime the leaves all fall,
And there's a reason why.
All nature works in it's own way,
To praise the Lord on high.
God doesn't scold the birds and bees,
Or smite them with his hand.
The only thing that disobeys,
Is the creature known as man.
---C.D.Keith---
A Poet
Sometimes a poet is a girl,
But often he's a man.
When he can't find a rhyming word,
He does the best he can.
If one line has too many feet,
With too few in the other.
He ought to dump it in the can,
And start himself another.
Now if a poet had good sense,
He wouldn't be a poet.
He'd try his hand at something else,
Now this is true. You know it.
Some years ago, one poet said,
I heart-i-ly agree.
That poems are made by foolish men,
But God alone can make a tree.
Writing poetry pleasures me,
But clutters up my head.
I'm getting kind of dizzy,
I think I'll go to bed.
---C.D.Keith---
Big Red
When I was just a growing up,
My mom would find a chore.
Perhaps to hoe a row of corn,
Or run down to the store.
Now I had lots of time to play,
But no kid had enough.
If he has any work at all,
He thinks he's got it tough.
One of the jobs she gave to me,
I had to do each day.
And when time came to do the job,
I sho' did wan to play.
Mom cooked out food on an old wood stove,
That thing would sure get hot.
And keeping that hateful woodbox full,
Always fell my lot.
She always kept a flock of hens,
And a big red rooster too.
I hated old Big Red so much,
I didn't know what to do.
The minute I went to the pile of wood,
And got down on my knees.
Big Red would stand a short way off,
As cocky as you please.
Now he would never flap his wings,
Or even start to crow.
Unitl my arms were full of wood,
So I could hardly throw.
And then he'd crow and flap his wings,
And strut with fiendish glee.
And in my mind there is no doubt,
That rooster laughed at me.
---C.D.Keith---
NextSet C.D.Keith's Poems 1, 2, 3, 4, Coming Soon!5,
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