Oakley Poems - Poems about Oakley

Octavious Oakley of Bermondsey Painted many a rustic scene with gypsies the main theme...

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I think Annie is going to shoot me. She smiles and winks; this is what she does best, the little lady is deadly accurate and pert with it. She takes aim. "Right ear." She says. Bang! Her Winchester explodes my ear. She laughs girlishly tells me to wake up, but the dream is way too interesting and I stand there dripping blood until she magically replaces it. We...

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When I was a kid I rode Saturdays on My Friend Flicka Sky King Roy Rogers And Flicka’s boy And Sky And Roy Hauled bad guys Off to justice Never seen again Never Never Never seen again Back in a barn Me and Annie Oakley Held our ground Shooting them down Waiting for a hero To cart them all away But no heroes But no others No other heroes Showed up We killed them all ourselves And didn’t surrender Or even pretend...

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Annie Oakley was quite a good marksman, And it's actually how she met her husband. She'd astound heads of state, And even her mate, She couldn't be beat as a marksman....

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Panda decided to have a serious talk with Oakley I always have to ride in the backseat, he complained So tomorrow when we get in the car, can you jump in the back seat? Oakley barked an okay, but not meaning it actually. The next day it was the same thing. The back backseat was opened. Get in Panda, the mommy...

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a little girl with braids a-flyin a stick pony without a head righting the wrongs of childhood when others don't play along I rope my brother, tie him down make him the bad guy, make him frown he's not that happy, playin my game Annie Oakley, runs away before he can tell mom I grew up, put Annie aside forgot about her for a very...

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