Cajun Cousins

We went "down the bayou," as we say;
We picked up my uncle's widow on the way.
I had convinced my bayou folks that I could
Be trusted to bring them some food.

My daddy's sister is quite the Cajun cook;
I've tried to get her to write a cookbook.
So it was a great honor to be
Entrusted with supper cooking duty.

Pot roast for plenty was what I made
We never know how many will be fed
Two cousins came over, a wife, and a son
We visited before the meal was begun.

We stood in a circle before we ate
A prayer was offered; food could wait.
We began the meal with my aunt's corn soup
She just couldn't, to being a beggar, stoop.

Conversation was lively; my cousin had killed a hog.
We spoke of everything from relatives to dogs.
King cakes, and cookies, and apple cake --
Everyone there seemed to have baked.

We rode home with stomachs and hearts that were full
The Cajun clan for me has a special pull
Everyone one who comes is treated like a dignitary,
And leaves with a feeling of being cherished.