Poems of Lighthouse Bob
Rustic Red #534
Rustic Red Beside the farm house dressed Victorian, a peasant's glove worn, torn, and battered by many years worked hard in scorching sun and thrashing rain, painted and repainted again rustic red, milked the cow and delivered foals in spring and nurtured them through maturity ‘til death, hung a horse's tack or two on lofty loft posts laden with hay, and sheltered many a weary cowboy passing chill of night, extends its welcome hand today to every generation slightly skewed from upright, stay a pillar of strength. |
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Rustic Red #534
Rustic Red #534
