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TBT: Women

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A woman surely made of sugar and spice

She is very very nice,

Never has she a harsh word

Her voice is like the song of a bird,

A woman you can only love

She’s as beautiful as a snow white dove,

An inspiration to us all

She will catch you if you fall,

And every time I am near her

It’s all I can do, not to love her further.

TBT: Finnish Flower

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So many Flowers in the garden looking their best,

But one stands out amongst the rest.

One is a little brighter shade of red,

And stood up taller in the Flower bed.

It was a Finnish flower that stood so tall,

So cute and fair like a babies doll.

Still it was elegant and strong,

Like a meadowlarks summer song.

Its’ stem was slender and long.

This Flower, it had nothing with it wrong.

I wished it would to me belong.

So beautiful in form and style.

And its’ sent was bitter, sweet and sour

Together tranquilly and forever and a while.

Until death will I part from my Finnish Flower.

TBT: My Rifle

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Ugh, so lame, but another TBT poem from my youth…

I love my rifle.
Its’ long thick barrel,
It could catch a can,
In my nimble hand.
I clean my Rifle often.

When the cries of battle sound,
My rifle will be ready to pound,
And fire when the heat is in my sight,
Superbly will my Rifle help me fight,
Because I clean it every night.

After the passion of battle,
My heart rate and breath level.
I will smile with pleasure,
For my drastic measures,
Now I will continue to clean, my Rifle.