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Shagged in the back of a shotgun shack at night by moonlight peeping past curtains of burlap sack such a sore sight surrounded by fields of green willing as she'd been tho' torn she surely wasn't about to be seen with a child out of wedlock born so with a bun in the oven she had her Dad invite he who did the dirty deed and plant the seed the Father-to-be down south way out on the steading to shape up show up and in the end attend a shotgun wedding

Copyright © Martin Howard Samuel

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things