Licking my wounds, oh my, I'm sore
I ain't doing no blackberry pickin no more
The bestest fruit upon the bush
And I fell under on my tush!
The bowl went up after all my pickins
And fed a waiting bunch of chickens
I think they thought they were in mighty luck
As they ate each berry with a cluck!
So there was I in a very sad pose
Dare not move not even my toes
A thorn was stuck, well you know where?
And I'm sure someone saw me lying there!
Stupid me! I scorned and I swore
That thorn was becoming very sore
A more tender place it could not be
Oh why did this happen to me?
My yearly job of making jam
Didn't even make the pan
My sad collection was now just juice
And the berries had gone on the loose
I walked slowly home like I'd lost the fight
My arms and fingers a pretty sight
I was full of scratches, full of thorns
I hung my head from Hubby's scorns
My daughter laughed as I told of my fate
And how the chickens, my berries ate
My little trip was all in vain
But I'm not about to do it again
I'm lickin my wounds, And I must confess
My scratches look an awfull mess!