Old Pete Parraday (C J Dennis Poems)
Old Pete Paraday, his mind works very slow;But, when it fastens on a thoughts, he will not let it go.He ...
Old Pete Paraday, his mind works very slow;But, when it fastens on a thoughts, he will not let it go.He ...
Pete bristles when the doorbell rings. Last night he didn't act the same.Dogs have a way of knowin' things, An' ...
'Tis precious stuff, said old George Jones "When men sore needs a fall;Tho' how or why it comes, I owns ...
after i ate my dinner then i atepart of a shoei found some archies by a bathroom pipeand ate them ...
There's a new grace up on Boot Hill, where we've planted Rowdy Pete;He died one evenin', sudden, with his leather ...
dear boss i dont seewhy you keep that ugly boston bull terrier petehanging aroundeating his head offin these hard timeshe ...
when we are in the city we must walkon streets all made of stonewith me upon a leashand even in ...
Saddle me up the Zebra Dun-Whoa, Zebe, whoa! Double-cinch the son of a gun-Whoa, till I bridle you, whoa! Foot ...
we found a hill all green with grassand cool with clover bloomwhere bees go booming as they passboom zoom boommy ...
god made seas to play besideand rugs to cover dogsgod made cars for holidaysand beetles under logsgod made kitchens so ...
i ran along the yellow sandand made the sea gulls flyi chased them down the waters edgei chased them up ...
He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.', ...
"Was I at Eureka?" His figure was drawn to a youthful height, And a flood of proud recollections made the ...
Saint Peter stood, at Heaven's gate, All souls claims to adjudicate Saying to some souls, "Enter in!" "Go to Hell," ...
(or 'Huddersfield the Second Poetry Capital of England Re-visited') What was it Janice Simmons said to me as James lay ...
MOORING POSTS 1 The mooring posts marked on the South Leeds map Of 1908 still line the Aire's side, huge, ...
1 COME up from the fields, father, here's a letter from our Pete; And come to the front door, mother-here's ...
Because I was a wonton wild And welcomed many a lover, Who is the father of my child I wish ...
Hark to the Sourdough story, told at sixty below, When the pipes are lit and we smoke and spit Into ...
He used to say: There ain't a doubt Misfortune is a bitter pill, But if you only pry it out ...
The hands of the clock were reaching high In an old midtown hotel; I name no name, but its sordid ...
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