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ODE ? TO UNCLE FOSSILL?

Story ID:7553
Written by:bobby o'neill mitchum (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Poem
Location:Phenix City Alabama U.S.A.
Year:2011
Person:Self
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My Uncle Fossill is a good Old Soul
and He goes fishing with a long cane pole
down to that Creek Bank He will Stroll
and drop that hook right into that hole.

He'll take You with Him,if You ask Him to
with His Old Hound Dog and a Cousin or Two
and He'll tell tall tales to entertain You
Sitting on the Creek bank chewing on a chew.

In the Evening,when the Sun goes down
My Uncle Fossill takes His Fiddle to Town
and All the People for miles around
can hear that Fiddle make a joyful sound.

He'll Play It Fast,He'll Play It Slow
He'll Play It Loud,He'll Play It Low
He'll Play so Sweet that the Tears will Flow
but He wont Play a Tune that You dont Know.

And thats My Uncle Fossill up there in Tennessee
Living His Own Life as busy as a Bee
and Some People Say He's a lot like Me
if thats true or not,lets just let it be.
Bob Mitchum