Dance Time At Ole Paige's Lake

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Rowdy Living Press
A poem about a real place....

Submitted: February 04, 2017

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Submitted: February 04, 2017




Old Huckle Buck

was skipping a beat and keeping time,

He danced all night

Until about a half passed five.

He said just hurry on over,

The food can’t wait,

He will still be partying hard

Until about ten past eight,

But another minute more would be

Too much to take;

At Page’s Lake  a lookin

And doin’ just fine.  


They got a parlor

With a long table,

And a barrel filled with wine;

And some ladies up stairs that do the boogie,  

Just a lookin so fine.  

So just hurry on over and

And don’t make them wait,

There’s only three hours to go here

At ole Paige’s Lake.

Wez just a dancing and a lookin,

And doin just fine!


We’re all gonna dance a bit

And drink our wine,

Gonna party hard until we're sick

and we don’t have a dime;

Wez all at ole Paige’s Lake a lookin

And doin just fine.


Come twelve they’ll all want to fight,

Oh how the fists will fly

And so will the steel all night.

We'll all party hard and we'll have it made,

We’ll wake up in the mornin with one hell

Of a headache,

feelin just like we're gonna die,

but before we know it it will be a

Quarter till five;

Wez all at ole Paige’s Lake a lookin and

A doin just fine!







© Copyright 2018 H.L. Dowless. All rights reserved.

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