He removed his hat when they first met.
He had a nice smile and a jaw that was set.
He returned in the spring during April showers.
He smiled when he handed her wildflowers.

They looked so tiny in his big hand
Contrasting with skin that was suntanned.
She sat and talked for several hours
With the man who brought her wildflowers.

In love, they were married one afternoon
And left that night on their honeymoon.
It seemed like they had to drive for hours,
But in a vase in their room were wildflowers.

Their love grew stronger day by day.
He held her close in every way.
Her labor lasted for hours and hours,
At last a son, and some wildflowers.

She suckled the babe and watched him grow,
And the warmth inside her made her glow
As she marveled the miracle of love’s powers
That started with a gift of wildflowers.

He worked every day out in the field
Hoping and trying to increase their yield.
In the evening he doctored the calves for scours.
He didn’t have time for wildflowers.

He rode in the mountains to check his stock.
He yearned for the time to sit and talk.
Perhaps this winter there’d be time to allow her.
In his saddlebag he brought one wildflower.

An old time rose from an abandoned homestead
It had ruffled petals of pinkish-red,
And its fragrance lingered on for hours.
Uncared-for in years, these wildflowers.

He took his son when he plowed one day.
The boy drove the tractor, it was like play.
“Look at me dad. I’m a good plower.”
“You sure are. And you’re Mama’s wildflower.”

He started feeling bad, so he went to the Doc.
After the exam, the Doc said, “We better talk.”
He didn’t call home for several hours.
He wished he could take her wildflowers.

When he finally told her about the cancer
It took several minutes before she could answer.
She didn’t come to see him for several hours.
When she did she brought him wildflowers.

The time came for her last good-bye.
She tried her best not to cry,
But her tears overflowed in little showers
On the hands of the man who brought wildflowers.

He squeezed her hand as she cried,
“I’ll wait for you on the other side.”
His spirit slipped away to higher powers,
And the leaves rustled in the wildflowers.

And so. . .
One morning their son was gone at nine
He went hiking and didn’t return on time.
Finally he came. He’d been looking for hours.
“Dad asked me to bring you these wildflowers.”

Have You Ever Raised Hogs?

Quite a while back, I remember it now,
My wife took the truck to go buy a cow.
I came to meet her when she got back,
And beside the new cow was a tied gunnysack.

I looked at the sack and it began to wiggle.
My wife gave me a kiss and then started to giggle.
It was just about dark as she said with a grin,
“Honey, do you think you could quick build a pen?” 

“What kind of a pen, and about how big?”
“Just big enough for a cute little pig.”
“A pig? I thought you went to get a cow
And now we got a cow and a sacked up sow.”

She could’ve got a Lab or deer huntin’ dog,
Instead she comes home with a gol durn hog.
Well I built a pen and threw in some hay,
Tossed in the hog with the last light of day.

I build that pen down-right stout,
So that wiggling little pig couldn’t get out.
I made the walls out of railroad ties.
“She won’t get out of there unless she flies.”

We should have named that hog Houdini.
I was ready to call her sausage, ham or wienee.
There wasn’t a day that she didn’t roam.
“Feed ‘er more, Honey, and she’ll stay home.”

So I fed ‘er more, and I fed ‘er more.
I should a bought stock in the local feed store.
“Grumble! Two more weeks and she’ll be et.”
“No! No! Pa, she’s the family pet.”

“Well just how long do you plan to feed ‘er?”
“Quite a while, Hon, cause we’re goin’ to breed ‘er.”
“This plan stinks, is what I think.
I’m going to the barn.” (And get me a drink).

I was doin’ my job at work one day,
When I get a call, and this they say.”
“Your wife and kids are out by the road.
I saw it all! She has lost her load.”

“Are they all right? Is everything fine?”
“Everyone’s fine except the swine.
You’re lucky that big old pig ain’t dead.
They were takin’ her up to get her bred.”

That hog jumped out at about fifty-five.
It’s truly amazing she’s still alive.
Every time she hit she let out a squeal.
She went down the road like a lost truck wheel.

“She’s skinned up some and she banged her head
But I think she’ll survive,” the old vet said.
“Geez, Doc, that’s too bad,” sez I.
The kids said “DAAD!!! And started to cry.

I tousled their hair and said I was jokin’.
I peeked at the wife and she was smokin’.
Five months later the kids came on the run.
“Dad, Big Pig has had twelve babies and still ain’t done.”

And so. . . sometimes when watchin’ football
And the announcer begins to give the call,
“The pigskin is up and it’s going end over end.”
I laugh and remember, Big Pig. . . our friend.

Copyright ©1999 South Fork Publications