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ROSE (Rod McKuen) Rod McKuen I married Rose in Twenty-One we got a little farm the first year out the barn burned down I broke my good right arm. From then on in things got bad I guess they could have been worse but seeing Rose in rags all day made me wanna curse. That's okay Rose'd say don't you worry none we'll have good times by and by next fall when the works all done. I watched her hands grow rough and red from pickin' in the fields putting up in Mason Jars what little crops they'd yield. I'd find what jobs there were in town most times there were none but Rose'd still have supper a waitin' at night when the day was done. That's okay Rose'd say don't you worry none we'll have good times by and by next fall when the works all done. Our first-born had a face like Rose and I guess a temper like mine she'd sleep all day and cry all night but she grew up and married fine. Our only son went off to fight in Nineteen Forty and Four a year went by and a telegram said he ain't comin' home no more. One winter night in Fifty Nine Rose took a terrible chill she went to sleep and she didn't wake up I guess she's sleeping still. But sometimes when the wind is singing high up in the Chinaberry tree it seems it not the wind at all but Rose singing to me. That's okay Rose'd say don't you worry none we'll have good times by and by next fall when the works all done. That's okay Rose'd say don't you worry none we'll have good times by and by next fall when the works all done. (Contributed by Greg Kitz - February 2003)

    


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