Glenn Hills Poem by Rebecca Navarre

Glenn Hills

Rating: 4.0


When camping, at Glenn Hills. The Rhinestone
cowboy, I got to know. We'd meet every year or
so. We walk the trails and to our favorite rock
we go. Although everything that glittered wasn't
gold. He was a bit bold. But, I cared for him
more than told. For he was my first kiss, as we
held hands. Around age 4,5, or so.

Glenn Hills
Monday, September 25, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: true,youth,first,kiss,memories,silly
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