I’m one of nine children, I like it that way,
My ranks’ in the middle, my name’s Emmarae.
Bobby and Billy are twins of thirteen,
Oft they catch supper at Wiggly Fish Stream.
Mary and Ma bake anything sweet,
The kitchen now smells of delectable treats.
Susie’s eleven, and then me, I’m nine,
Together we pin wet clothes on the line.
Rambunctious brothers, Lucas and Ben,
Gather up eggs and then feed the hens.
The porch swing creaks as gently it sways
With five year old Ricky and three year old Faye.
Pa is out working, he’s tilling the fields,
Praying to God for prosperous yields.
“Never lose sight, dear children of mine,
God sees to our needs ALL of the time.”
Ma always says work can be fun--’cause
The more hands we have, the sooner it’s done.
With frail old hands I refold the rhyme,
Yellow and fragile, it’s aged over time.
I reflect on the fun we shared with each other,
My three loving sisters, my five caring brothers.
No better playmates or friends could there be
Than the children God placed in my family.
My sisters and I would giggle at night,
On cold wintry evenings we’d snuggle real tight.
We heard the boys’ boots drop on the floor,
Soon’s they laid back, we’d hear ‘em all snore.
We looked out for each other all of our lives,
Mary matched Billy and Ben with their wives.
When young sister Faye was bedridden sick--
Who came to her rescue--big brother Rick.
Bobby helped build my cabin, my home.
It’s filled with memories so I’m not alone.
I thank God daily for how I’ve been blessed.
Family’s are precious and mine was the best.
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