A POEM FOR GINGER
We stood by the gate as the sun went down
Behind the hills on a summer day.
Her eyes were tender, and big, and brown;
Her breath was sweet, like the new mown hay.
Far from the West the faint sunshine
Glanced, sparkling, off her golden hair.
Her big brown eyes were turned toward mine,
And a look of contentment rested there.
She was young like me, and tall and straight,
And we were friends for a time, she and I.
She liked to play, or stand by the gate,
Or walk back and forth 'neath the summer sky.
I remember with fondness her standing there.
I can see her standing, peacefully, now.
Peacefully standing, and chewing her cud,
As I rubbed her ears, that young Jersey cow.
Multiple Authors
Behind the hills on a summer day.
Her eyes were tender, and big, and brown;
Her breath was sweet, like the new mown hay.
Far from the West the faint sunshine
Glanced, sparkling, off her golden hair.
Her big brown eyes were turned toward mine,
And a look of contentment rested there.
She was young like me, and tall and straight,
And we were friends for a time, she and I.
She liked to play, or stand by the gate,
Or walk back and forth 'neath the summer sky.
I remember with fondness her standing there.
I can see her standing, peacefully, now.
Peacefully standing, and chewing her cud,
As I rubbed her ears, that young Jersey cow.
Multiple Authors
Becky Jameson,thanks for becoming a follower of this (kind of a) blog. Becky's Blogs are "Grace and Glory Genealogy Blog", "Gramma's House", and "My Public Photo Albums". You can click on them in the Followers section of this blog.
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