|Down on the Farm
Spring is sprung and the grass is riz.
Down by the creek I take a whiz.
Frogs are croakin' and I don't know why?
Too many of them legs I used to fry?
Old Paint's got a hard on for Lazy May,
his thing is a draggin' for all to see.
Got me to thinkin' as I watched him play.
Of all those kids and me… What?
That's right, it warn't goats, but sheep.
Lambs that was goin' to market to sleep.
You could call it spring fever or fervor,
whatever you like… like, Whatever?
Bees is a buzzin' around the honeypot,
the flowers is a blushin', I kid you not.
So full of pollen they's 'bout to burst.
Drink from the creek to quench my thirst.
Got me to thinkin' of ole Daizy Maye,
Anytime was a good time to roll in the hay.
Sure do miss that ole girl that way,
crossed eyes, missing teeth to this very day.
When the corn got high we'd play hide and seek.
She'd drop her top and give me a peek.
twarn't nothin' to see but I got to… hee hee,
she was a durn sight better than sheep!
Wonder whatever happened to that ole girl?
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Read War's End, the Novel
Copyright 2007 © Ronald W. Hull