A wagon went a rocking down an old dirt road;
the horse out in front; confidently strode.
Wheels on the rocks made a crackling sound;
horse’s hoofs clip-clopped along hard ground.
The old man in the wagon; whistled on his way;
together they all made music; in a natural way.
Wagon rounded bend; and by the roadside stood;
a man and his dog beside some fresh cut wood.
The driver offered a ride to his final destination;
the man took him up; without procrastination.
The music as before, was made of natural sound;
added to the beat was the barking of the hound.
The man with the dog sang a song in tenor tone;
in the back of the wagon; dog chewed on a bone.
Was a symphany of sounds heard on that day;
as the wagon rolled along; on it's very merry way.
Down the road a bit, was a farmer stuck in mud;
trying to get his cow out; both covered up in crud.
Tying the cow to the wagon, they pulled her out;
farmer was so happy, he let out a grateful shout.
The bell around cow’s neck; rang out clang-clang;
She just added to the music that the wagon sang.
With a crackle, clip-clop; whistle, clang-clang and bark;
they continued down the road; though was getting dark.
Four miles out of town they came across a gent;
thrown from his horse; it was clear he was spent.
In his large satchel he carried silver and other ware;
in hopes to sell to all the folks in the town’s square.
With the music of the wagon; he pulled out two spoons;
clicking together on his knee; he could play some tunes.
Crackle, clip-clop, whistle, clang-clang, bark, sing; clickity-click;
cow started mooing; she needed milking; she was getting sick.
They picked up one last rider; who had a leg made of wood;
When offered a ride in the wagon; replied, "I think I should."
As the music resumed, he tapped wooden leg on the floor;
one good thing about that leg; no worries it would get sore.
One more mile to go before the town would come into sight;
they traveled in natural music; as dusk turned into night.
Crackle, clip-clop, whistle, clang-clang, bark, sing; clickity-click; moo and tap-tap
Into town they rode, playing natural music; people stood with mouths a gap.
The singing man jumped off; with his barking blue tick hound;
the farmer took his cow to milk; before she spilt it on the ground.
Gent and his wares for sale, was last to leave the wagon’s tune;
all would remember riding in the wagon on that hot day in June.
The old man at the reins; bid the men goodbye and goodnight;
then off he rode in his old wagon; while he whistled out of sight.
No doubt he’ll find more riders, to join the wagon’s sounds;
and they’ll all make natural music,as he makes his rounds.
© Copyright 2016 Ava Rosien. All rights reserved.
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