Gramps brought home a goat from a sale one smmner's day;
Said, "He'll keep the weeds down", and he did, but what the hey,
He ate Grandma's garden, too, and her geranium plants;
I'd never seen Grandma so mad. She did a real war dance!

Then the goat, he ambushed her on her way to get the mail;
Knocked my uncle down as he toted a full milk pail;
Grandma assailed my Grandpa one night at the supper meal;
Said, "You'd best sell that Billy. You know how I feel!"

But, Gramps, he just ignored her – and to his bed he went;
I knew he'd done an unwise thing, Gran's eyes were hard as flint!
Next day she acted kinda strange as we went to the field to work;
Didn't speak to Grandpa. He knew that she was irked.

The next few days slipped by real quiet – the goat was nowheres seen;
And when Gramps inquired of him, my Grandma's eyes, they gleamed;
The next day it dawned on Gramps, the goat was gone, for sure,
And Grandma acted happy – had a smile so sweet and pure.

Then Sunday momin' rolled around, time to go to meetin';
And we got up and we got dressed; when breakfast we was eatin',
Grandma goes and gets her purse and she dons a brand new coat–
And Grandpa choked on his sip of coffee –


by Donna Penley

Copyright © Donna Penley
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September 25, 2000 / John & Susan Howell /

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