Honey biscuits and sausage gravy,
Tell them, children, to settle and sit,
Its time for grace and there ain’t no maybe’s,
If you’re eating ham hocks, collards, buttered grits.
Dear Lord thanks for life in this world,
Family and all,
The preacher on Sundays,
And cider this fall.
Thanks for the hens and their big brown eggs,
The goat for her cheese,
The river for catfish,
The apples in fall trees.
The fat cow for sweet milk,
The mill pond for fish,
Firewood for a warm rest,
And hand-me-down overalls that actually fit.
For the jokes, Uncle Joe always seems to tell,
The hunts we have and coveys of quail,
The sweet tea that Maddy makes on days like this,
And Mammy’s fat biscuits, steamed shrimp, cinnamon twists.
Thank you, Lord, for all that you give,
To the sinful souls who sit where we live,
From hearing the prayers that we send to you,
Or calming our hearts from our many fears.
We thank you good Lord and simply ask,
That you’d help those families who have far less,
And guide our hands each and every day,
In doing Your tasks as we go on our way.