LIMERICKS AND STUFF By Leigh Collin Brandt
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Wednesday, September 22, 2021
I WAIL ON MY HORN WHEN, I LOSE MY CORN
Fall is here to freeze my corn,
I wish that fall was never born,
My last rose has died away,
I won't see flowers until mid-May,
I be all tear drops forlorn,
I guess I'll wail on my English horn.
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