Saturday Picnic

On Saturdays
Jack the cat curls up by the warm cook stove in the budding hours of morning.
He joins the wee mice anticipating crumbs from Momma Faith and Grandma Carrie
As they prepare the Saturday picnic.

Down comes Grandma Carrie and down comes Momma Faith,
Their thick flannel nightgowns whispering soft secrets only the tiger oak stairs can hear.
Down comes Poppa Earl with a yawn as wide as the universe,
it seems,
And out he goes to fetch
Water from the bubbling stream
For the stew at the Saturday picnic.

Down bounds little Rilla
She's not quiet at all,
As she leaps upon the tiger oak to the maple floor below.
She's wiggly and she's squiggly, as she sits on Momma's lap
"Today's the day we take a walk,
and eat with Jack the cat!"

Brother James and brother Bob pop in
With oak to stoke the cook stove hot,
While Grandma Carrie cuts beef into cubes;
Carrots, celery, and potatoes too.
"So soon we all shall sup!" she smiles
Sharing at the Saturday picnic.

The stew is ready
It's piping hot as Poppa carries it in the pot
Across the field
Behind the house
Out through the woods to the sacred spot
Awaiting the Saturday picnic

Jack the cat
He follows along
His tail swishes lean and long
A little mouse is at his heels
To catch the crumbs from the afternoon meal.

Poppa Earl harps a happy tune
While Momma Faith fills the bowls with stew
Then Grandma Carrie cuts the bread
As they all sit down to bow their heads
Offering prayers towards the trees above
Bark and leaves profess their love
Through a breeze at the Saturday picnic.

The meal is through
Now the Kelley's dance
Brother Bob swings, others prance,
Near the great round table
Under the turquoise sky,
A fiery canopy quivers high,
With leaves of orange and yellow and red
Some floating down to the forest bed.

And wee young mouse
And Jack the cat
Nestle in for an afternoon nap
Fat
After the Saturday picnic.


Inspired by my grandmother's childhood memories.