In The
Thicket
On top of the hill,
Where the
blueberries grow,
Is where I first met
My handsome young
beau.
My sister
and I
Were busy gathering berries,
He
strolled down the lane,
And he really
tarried.
Handsome and
tall,
Dark and distracting!
We laughed
and giggled,
How silly we were acting.
He
looked so bored,
Yet we knew we were
seen,
I thought he was looking
At my
sister, Marlene.
I plunged in the
thicket,
More berries to harvest,
That's
when I discovered
The stickers were
sharpest.
I let out a
shriek,
And the blood started flowing,
He
gave me his handkerchief,
And smiled oh, so
knowing.
Wasn't long till we
Started to court, he and I,
Attending a
box social,
Or a square dance near
by.
My dad
didn't think it
Was really too
cricket,
For me to date someone
I had met
in a thicket.
Sixty long
years have
Passed since we first met,
And
there is not one of
Those years I
regret.
For we
have spent them together,
My sweet beau and
I,
Blueberries from the thicket
Makes the
sweetest of pies!
Karen
© October 20, 2005
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