he plows his own fields
the sweat makes him proud
and he makes his own meals
no need for electronic gigitry
just an antique phonograph
the crackle of the 33's
a lemon flavored iced tea
with country breezes
on that red wooden swing
those chains have been linked
with happiness
and many a good stories
on that red wooden swing
Reason for writing:
i was feeling kinda folky
Birth sign: Sagittarius
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by psYchodd.