THE OLD KITCHEN TABLE
Our kitchen table is where so much has taken place in our home through the years. We planned trips, discussed world events, talked about problems, celebrated birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas and other holidays and gave thanks to God; it was the center of our family life. For 5 generations this has been the case and I wrote this poem after hearing all the stories my husband has told of his life growing up on our farm. and including some of our family life together.
With the smells of breakfast in the air, we ran to find our place
And gathered there at the evening meal bowing to say grace
Where mother rolled her crust for pies and taught us how to cook
In evening by a coal oil lamp she’d read to us a book
A place for coffee with your neighbor whenever he dropped in
Or an abundant feast at harvest time to feed the hungry men
It was the center of our world where we were loved and fed
A place we knew we could return and gather to break bread
But time did pass and we grew up and went out on our own
But we were always welcomed around the table back at home
We’d come back on holidays and sit and reminisce
On memories of our childhood and the good times that we missed
How on summer nights we’d sleep outdoors beneath the stars and dream
We’d play and hunt in the woods and go floating down our stream
Of winter days, the old wood stove and sledding in the snow
Old cars we’d had that wouldn’t run and how time then passed so slow
Of handmade quilts and feather beds and family get-togethers
Watching the sky from the porch as we saw the storm clouds gather
The summer days and swimming holes and not having to lock doors
Of music parties, the one room school and walks to the country store
Our dad and mom have left this earth and our children are all grown
Now they have fond memories of their youthful years and home
Of summer days, firework displays of trips and going fishin’
And they reminisce when they come home around the table in our kitchen
