In the mode of rural lifestyles I've a story true and warm
that will take you back to yesteryear and life down on the farm.
It's about my Uncle Alvin and the never ending woe
that seemed to follow him around wherever he would go.
Now my uncle was a slow poke, a statement bold and true.
He took longer to accomplish things than normal people do.
He grew up as a farm boy and he never had a wife-
before he knew what they were for, he'd lived up half his life.
I was but a little tad, and he was in his prime
but I could do some things he did in less than half his time.
One time when he was helpin put some shingles on a house,
He was tellin -bout a squeamish aunt's encounter with a mouse,
when he slipped and started fallin to the ground way down below,
but remember now, I told you, Uncle Alvin was real slow....
A neighbor saw that tragedy was mighty close at hand---
He had Sears send a mattress out in time for him to land.
Another time he found himself atop a load of hay,
the finish of that acre that was cut the other day ;
His team was ploddin homeward when some wise guy broke the sound
yellin gosh almighty, Alvin, your wheels is goin round.
But this time uncle held his own, retorting with a frown,
I knowed some fool would notice that afore I got through town.
He lived to be a ripe old age, but finally had to go....
I loved my Uncle Alvin, but it's true.... he sure was slow.
Don Tidwell