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When think'n back on a time that was,
Of warm summer days when June Bugs buzz

As a farm-kid... with chores I can't drop,
Like the milk'n of cows and hogs to slop

There's things I remember and greet with a smile,
They carry me back... walk'n barefoot for a while

There's that smell that lingered from old corn silage,
And the string'n of barb-wire... measured in mileage

Hand-milk'n cows with a horsefly on my shirt,
And amuse'n the cat with the last few squirts

There was grind'n cow feed... mix'n corn and citrus-pulp,
And drink'n cold, well-water... try'n not to gulp

Eat'n cornbread in milk or sippin' sweet lemonade,
Chop'n weeds from the garden... shell'n peas in the shade

Side-step'n nettles as we rounded up the cows,
Avoid'n old roosters and the new mother sows

Sling-cut'n bitter weeds down by the "crick",
Nurse'n-back ol' Bossy each time she got sick

Train'n baby calves how to drink from a pail,
Laugh'n at the heifers... all run'n "high-tail"

I still remember crank'n that old corn sheller,
And the bushels of taters we carried to the cellar

I liked pour'n warm milk in a big shallow pan,
And see'n a dozen cats in a close-circle stand

Chill'n the milk in our cooler 'fore it's sold,
And along with the cans... float a watermelon cold

Yes, these are the things that always come back,
Whenever I suffer ... a summer "milk-attack".