Spring leaves, an' emerald green,
gentle sun kissin' the lake
nearby, geese waddlin' and
honkin' at the playful pussy
cat chasin' them 'round the yard,
yet the air grinds to a halt,
the ol' shack's once bustlin'
breeze fell silent to echoes of
an ol' cowboy's blues lingerin',
I reckon those whiskey kissed
tales'll live on forever, with mah
pappy preachin' of the joys of
women, in that ol' dark shack
he used to live in...
How'd you feel? Can you critique?
Comments
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removing the 'g' actually gives tones to this
Very nice
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I suppose this is rather nice, I just wonder about the women in the shack part?
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