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Yes,It was my Grandmother
Who trained wild hores for pleasure and pay.
People knew of her saying:
She knows how to handle them.
Hores obey that woman.
She worked,Skirts flying,Hair tied securely in the wind and dust,
She rode those animals hard and ws thrown,
Time and time again.
She worked until they were meek
and wanting to please.She cam home at dusk,
tired and dusty,
Smelling of sweat and horses.
She couldn't cook,
My father said smiling,
Your Grandmother hated to cook
Oh Grandmother,
Who feed me from cooking.
Grandmother,you must have made sure
I met a man who would not share the kitchen.
I am small like you and
do not protect my careless hair
from wind or rain-it tangles often,
Grandma, and it is wild and untrained.
- by Kimberly12020 |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 10/12/2009 |
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- Title: Yes, It was my Grandmother
- Artist: Kimberly12020
- Description:
- Date: 10/12/2009
- Tags: grandmother
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