MY STORY POEM
WHEN YOUNG I VISITED MY GRAND PAW WHO LIVED NEAR THE DUMP NESTLED DOWN A HILL IN A PASTURE WHERE COW PADDIES SEEMED TO FORM WALKWAYS TO HIS ARTESIAN WELL AND DOWN FURTHER TO THE RAPID RIVER WE ALWAYS TOOK BUCKETS FILLED THEM WITH THIS CHILLY WATER PUTTING STICKS ACROSS OUR SHOULDERS AND CARRIED THEM... Sign in to see full entry.