Friday, October 23, 2020

OctPoWriMo 22: I'll have me a . . .

I'll have me a biscuit.
Pass 'em right over.
Don't remember the last time
I sunk my teeth into somethin' so fine.
Don't dally, lover,
I'll give you a dime
afore I go back out on the line.
Too many years I been a drover,
my hands an' my heart filled with grime,
but fer these biscuits, I'll pine,
an' I'll have just one more.

Friday morning biscuits (2020)

My grandfather was a cowboy. I grew up eating these biscuits, the best my gramie made. Just simple flour, salt, butter, milk, and a little baking powder. Grandad used to tell tales of how out on the range, the cattle lulled to sleep, the cook used to bake these biscuits in an iron pot over the fire, right next to another pot filled with beans. So, once in a while, I think of those old days and make a batch. Today, snow's coming, so I filled the morning with the smell of bacon and biscuits.

Today's poem is part of OctPoWriMo, that challenge to write a poem a day throughout October. Check out that link to see what others have written!


  1. Replies
    1. The biscuits were tasty, too. Thank you, Sally.

  2. Beth, what a delightful poem. My grandfather was a fisherman. He always packed Nana's leftover breakfast biscuits to take on his daily trips to set the nets. You brought back such fond memories.

    1. Thanks for stopping by, SinDe. I didn't think biscuits would be an inspiration this morning . . . but they were! Also, during the pandemic, I find myself doing more baking and remembering my grandparents.

  3. Cheered me for sure. I love a homemade biscuit! Thanks. xoA

    1. Thank you for stopping by. If you lived closer . . . you could have some biscuits!

  4. Now I want me some biscuits and beans. Thank you, Beth.

    1. The biscuits are gone, but writing this poem took me back to some happy memories. I'm not sure about cowboy beans, though. Thank you for visiting.

  5. We call them scones and eat them with strawberry jam and cream.(Devonshire tea)