Down Home Country-Style Vittles Poem by Marilyn Lott

Take a deep breath, folks
You can smell it in the air
It’s that country-Style Vittles
That everyone’s waiting to share

Guys dressed up as cowboys
Oh look at that mustache there
Hats perched on their heads
Nobody has a head that’s bare

Got the campfires burning
The grill pans heated just so
From the smoldering beneath them
Coals with that perfect orange glow

Buzzing voices around us
The food’s getting the most attention
We can hardly stand it as we
Hold our plates with anticipation

So join us if you can, folks
The band’s starting up the fiddles
‘Cause it’s almost time to eat
Those down home Country-Style Vittles!