In March Poem by Harvey Horst
In March
Why don't be so uppity
My poor little Guppity
We march til we're old
Or dead
Though the tempo never changes
The order often rearranges
For we march til we're old
Or dead
So don't grow too weary
If I'm no longer near thee
We still march til we're old
Or dead
Though it's one or the other
And was the other for your mother
We march til we're old
Or dead
And when I die
Don't cry or sigh
Just march til your old
Or dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/2/2025 11:14:33 AM # 1.0.0
