Billiard Players I'm told that my father was a billiard player. The best one in the town. But I have never seen him play in all. The years I've been around. The story goes he played like a wild cat. And won each and every game. He was so good that no one. dared steal his fame. When ever a stranger came to our town. A ruckus always began. The stranger then would invite my father. To come and play around. I was told, along came a gal; That no one in the town did know. She challenged him to a game of pool. And one the very first round. Now my father was no loser; So he bet with his life. He'd "Beat her before he died", he said. But not the way every one thought. He kicked up his heels, and exclaimed. While the rest of the town was in shock. Well I guess I'm beat and so, I'm forced to tie the knot. Every person in town understood him now. The prophesy had came true. The gal had come a
Showing posts from July, 2016
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Smoothly, the crisp clean wind moves quietly through the trees, making the leaves rustle. While the the nightingale sings its favorite song and the call of the owl sweeps through the air to catch his dinners no far away in the distance you can faintly hear the howl of the wolf as he tells his story to the moon. With all these lovely songs that the wooded lands sing at dusk, with a wave of light it all hits the ground at the crack of daylight.