(limerick) Six And Fearless - Poem by WES Vogler
When I fell from the top of the tree,
My Mom was concerned about me.
The branch where I'd stood
Was of rotten old wood,
But I landed as soft as could be.
The branch, when it broke, was slowed down
By live branches, and, so, like a clown,
I rode down to the fence,
And had just enough sense
To step off, and with never a frown.
Now my mother was watching, by gosh,
And, as mothers do, finished the wash.
Well, this story is true
And I've got to tell you....
When my dad came home, then came the 'cosh'
(I was six years old. At that age, you are fearless)
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