Gary Smith Poet Rhyme

Brambling Days

Through the thorny bramble 

Our hands were sorely tried,

Stretching for the juicy ones

The black ones, way up high.

Sometimes we ate the red ones

Sharp and bitter sweet.

But the plump and sticky ripened ones,

Those ones were the treat.

We collected basketfuls

Our fingers purple stained,

But by the time we got them home,

Very few remained.

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart July 17, 2017 at 3:03 PM Oh this is lovely :) Gary Smith July 17, 2017 at 3:05 PM Thank you Maureen :)

M. L. Kiser July 17, 2017 at 2:45 PM Yep, they never do seem to last, do they...well penned. Gary Smith July 17, 2017 at 2:47 PM Thank you M.L. :)

Heidi Sands July 17, 2017 at 1:47 PM So Awesome Gary. Sounds like great fun :) Gary Smith July 17, 2017 at 1:50 PM Thank you Heidi :)