Where Good Food Comes From
Prose by H.L. Dowless
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Once I took a barefooted walk through the cool morning dew, Right through a lush farm that I once knew. My bare feet felt so good in that crisp damp grass, That I just hated to see the golden morning pass. Oh, How I did love this place that I lived in last! Slowly, ever so softly, I walked past the green leafy turnip patch. All sickness and ill health can good turnips dispatch! Then I passed through that golden corn standing so tall Just a-dryin’ on the stalk, With ne’er a missed crop that I can recall. I tasted those sweet persimmons and every ripe berry, Until kind farmer Singletary came forward to greet me, All sweaty, dirty, And weary. “Boy, do ya see that brown cow standing by his feed? Well that’s where we all O’ that good milk, Meat, and cheddar cheese! “Do ya see those birds a-peckin’ around the cow pen? Why that’s where we get those fine eggs All clean and free from rot And disease, Not to mention that good fried chicken; Just pass the mashed potatoes please!
“Oh, Dear son, do ya see that big fat pig Just a-wallowin’ in the wet mud? That’s where we get those good pork chops, Apple cured hams, And those tasty ribs for your old Uncle Bud! “Boy, do ya see those high reaching trees standing tall by the barn? Thats where those sweet apples, Plums, And Indian Blood peaches come from!” But you know, These days when I walk through that farm, I sometimes feel that I should sound a GREAT ALARM! All that I now see is a vine covered old house, And three overgrown collapsed barns! In that tree covered pasture and those weed choked fields, I see nary a standing cow, Pig, chicken, peach, or even a single Damson plum! So, forevermore I shall sound the alarm out loud Throughout this great land, As you ask me that eternally gnawing question; Man, Just where is all of that good food going to COME FROM NOW!
H.L. Dowless is a thirty year plus writer who loves traveling, writing, and living life on the edge.