O'l Mama's Stew
#WritcoPoemPrompt10
Rickety, rick, rackety rack,
The train sings a song on its old track,
As we swing with its tune,
Swaying and bouncing a moment too soon,
With bright smoke rising against that blue skies,
Mothers patting to babies cries,
With Heads high, and ...
Rickety, rick, rackety rack,
The train sings a song on its old track,
As we swing with its tune,
Swaying and bouncing a moment too soon,
With bright smoke rising against that blue skies,
Mothers patting to babies cries,
With Heads high, and ...