Saturday, September 13, 2008
First Deer
First Deer
Hiding behind an oak tree, picking at my nose.
All that I've seen, are a bunch of skittish does
Last nights dinner of canned beans and dry bread,
Are talking to me loudly, and the smell is quite dread.
Finally got me settled, now I'm havin' to go pee.
Woodpeckers and Bluejays are clearly mocking me.
My butts gotten flat from sittin, I can no longer feel my feet.
Now I'm a wishin I had brought a comfy seat.
My stomachs a growlin, like a roarin' freight train
If I sit here much longer I'll likely go insane.
Everything seems buck-like in this crazy sun light
Why, you ask? do I do this year to year...
It's for that one chance to say...I shot my first deer.
Author - Jennifer Dove 2008
Hiding behind an oak tree, picking at my nose.
All that I've seen, are a bunch of skittish does
Last nights dinner of canned beans and dry bread,
Are talking to me loudly, and the smell is quite dread.
Finally got me settled, now I'm havin' to go pee.
Woodpeckers and Bluejays are clearly mocking me.
My butts gotten flat from sittin, I can no longer feel my feet.
Now I'm a wishin I had brought a comfy seat.
My stomachs a growlin, like a roarin' freight train
If I sit here much longer I'll likely go insane.
Everything seems buck-like in this crazy sun light
Why, you ask? do I do this year to year...
It's for that one chance to say...I shot my first deer.
Author - Jennifer Dove 2008
I Know Not Where
I Know Not Where
Shot an arrow up in the air
somewhere It landed, I know not where.
Searched for hours high and low.
The sun and grass are quite my foe.
This single arrow all on its own,
I tried so hard to bring you home.
I finally gave up and decided your free
in my quiver you weren't meant to be.
Author - Jennifer Dove 2008
Shot an arrow up in the air
somewhere It landed, I know not where.
Searched for hours high and low.
The sun and grass are quite my foe.
This single arrow all on its own,
I tried so hard to bring you home.
I finally gave up and decided your free
in my quiver you weren't meant to be.
Author - Jennifer Dove 2008
Conch Shell
Conch Shell
Conch shell, conch shell on the beach
I see the waves that you can't reach
Your clothes of white, pink and gold
All your wrinkles make you look so old
Your were a home for some little guy
Who hides from those who fly in the sky
I'd pick you up, and take you home
But there you'd sit, all alone
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
Conch shell, conch shell on the beach
I see the waves that you can't reach
Your clothes of white, pink and gold
All your wrinkles make you look so old
Your were a home for some little guy
Who hides from those who fly in the sky
I'd pick you up, and take you home
But there you'd sit, all alone
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
Spring
Spring
When the rain drops fall
And the birds all sing
When the flowers start to bloom
The caterpillars take wing
When the air warms up
And we all go to swim
When we go to the lake
And we all jump in
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
When the rain drops fall
And the birds all sing
When the flowers start to bloom
The caterpillars take wing
When the air warms up
And we all go to swim
When we go to the lake
And we all jump in
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
Gum
Gum
Oh no, I'm in trouble
I just blew a big, big bubble.
it was big, it was round,
if it popped, oh what a sound.
It would pop all over my face,
My, oh my, what a disgrace.
It was sweet, maybe berry,
If I'm right, i thinks its cherry.
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
Oh no, I'm in trouble
I just blew a big, big bubble.
it was big, it was round,
if it popped, oh what a sound.
It would pop all over my face,
My, oh my, what a disgrace.
It was sweet, maybe berry,
If I'm right, i thinks its cherry.
Author - Jennifer Dove 1986
Around The Corner
Around The Corner
Around the corner, through the dirt,
Mud splattering all over my shirt.
Around the corner, around the bend,
I hope this fun will never end.
Roar up the hill, and down the other side,
This is what I call a fun filled ride.
Around the corner, watch the wheels peel out
This is what riding is all about.
Over a bump and into the grass,
That's when the go-cart ran out of gas.
Author - Jennifer Dove 1988
Around the corner, through the dirt,
Mud splattering all over my shirt.
Around the corner, around the bend,
I hope this fun will never end.
Roar up the hill, and down the other side,
This is what I call a fun filled ride.
Around the corner, watch the wheels peel out
This is what riding is all about.
Over a bump and into the grass,
That's when the go-cart ran out of gas.
Author - Jennifer Dove 1988
Sunday, September 7, 2008
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