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.


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