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At all our family parties In the spring and in the fall. We'd have a potluck dinner. There was food for one and all. At the center of the table Sat a celebrated bowl. Just one of our traditions, It was Aunt Jane's casserole. No clue to what was in it Twas her secret recipe. Folks asked us when they ate it, "What on earth can this stuff be?" My dad said it was possum, Uncle Billy tasted coal. They both took time to warn me, "Don't eat Aunt Jane's casserole." My mother claimed it fishy, As she hid a bite in foil. When I finally tried it, I remembered castor oil. The preacher came one springtime. Said a prayer condemning sin. Then had a heaping helping And did not come back again. Aunt Jane would stand there asking, "Have you tried it on a roll?" As the family all avoided Aunt Jane's famous casserole. Aunt Jane's no longer with us. Bless her heart and rest her soul. Her hallowed spot's remembered, There we place an empty bowl. The recipe went with her. Soon again to take it's toll. It will be the talk of Heaven: Aunt Jane's famous casserole. —Grandpa Tucker |