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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about music, hoedowns, country folks, & a time in the past.

Submitted: January 14, 2015

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Submitted: January 14, 2015



Grandma has a washtub

And she calls it Belly-round,

It’s extra thick, galvanized,

And it’s never let her down.


Sometimes it’s a stool

When she plucks a hen or two

 And it can be a barber’s chair

If she gets a hold of you.


It’s great for gathering apples,

Or peaches, in their time.

It even makes a real fine ship

When pirates sail the foamy brine.


Yes, Grandma has a washtub,

A wooden spoon, and a mason’s jar.

And Friday nights the kinfolk come,

Some by carriage and some by car;


Then Grandma plays, old Belly-round,

And Grandpa plays the fiddle,

Sis and I, we play the saw

And guitar, fare to middle.


Yes, everybody come to dance

To the beat of Belly-round,

They hoop, holler, and have a ball,

When Grandma lays it down!


JEF --- aka, D. Thurmond - org.=1985

© Copyright 2019 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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