A Buggy

Going back to childhood,
When the air was muggy.
I remember in my life,
Of riding in a buggy.

Over hill and over dale,
Where the roads were wide.
Juggling to a rhythm,
Through the countryside.

Sitting by my Papa,
And by my Mama, too.
Ever would we pass along,
In the contentment that I knew.

The faithful mare so carefully,
Helped us move along.
Softly then...for our T.V,
We'd hum a little song.

And as we traveled on and on,
I'd grow a bit more huggy.
Little squeaks of laughter then,
While riding in a buggy.


E.P. 1908 - 1989