My little red wagon how I played with it all summer long. It went where ever I went without one word of complaint. My little red wagon is no more. I haven’t seen it in years. Oh where oh where do you go? So I can show my children and grandchildren the joy we shared.
The little girl walked along side the road, tugging her red wagon behind her. Her yellow flowery dressed billowed out underneath her as the evening’s breeze rolled in. She skipped and hummed as she carried along, her Red Rover wagon following behind.
Life had been hard, before. Not that it wasn’t anymore, I mean… but it was different then. It was almost the same everyday, like variations on a theme. Chores and labor and work and chores and labor and work and chores and…
But then we packed up and bundled ourselves into the wagon. They told us it would be easier in the end; more play, less work. More time for ourselves and for eachother, they said. We just had to get into our wagon and ride, arrive, refresh our lives.
Time was the killer.
The hardest days of all were the wagon days. Day in, day out. No variation. Just sit and sit and sit and sit wait and sit and sit and watch and sit and sit and sit. . .
The wagon wheels turn. One by one, in groups of four. Wheeling down the road, within the open prairie, not a worry in the world. Life was so simple back then. How did it change so drastically? Science? Technology? Maybe those things aren’t so innovative after all.
Didn’t have one. Can you believe that? I never had a red wagon to ride around in as a child.
I also think of covered wagons. Remember how people sometimes had a single wagon wheel as a yard decoration? Maybe leaning against a tree? I remember, several times, thinking about locations where I’d seen lone wagon wheels and imagining gathering them up to make new wagons.
I never expected to see it in city centre. It’s surely something unusual and a bit extraordinary, but I guess that was exactly what newlyweds wanted. Still in my opinion, driving through main square in old fashioned wagon is simply showing off.
The wagon dragged along, down the hill, down the bumpy track, stumbling occasionally. But it must carry its loads to the lake. Finally, to drown by its own weight.
You can’t ride in my little blue wagon, the back seats broken, and the axil’s draggin’!
Although I’ve had many wonderful, school spirited, high school memories, I don’t think I will miss it very much. At all.
it’s the shaggin wagon. oh joy – this day is too beautiful not to take a ride in it. so let your hair fling back like branches in the wind and love that breeze flowing through your inhibitions. don’t take that personally, just take happiness as it is
John glanced curiously at the old wooden wagon sitting by the entrance to 221 as he made his way in after work. He could just barely make out a skull and crossbones in faded, painted black, a raggedy black flag tied around the handle. “Sherlock,” he asked whn he got upstairs to find the detective seething over a manilla envelope, “What was that old wagon doing outside?”
“You’ve just missed Mycroft,” Sherlock muttered, waving the envelope as though that were proof enough. “He always seems to be able to dredge up a piece of my childhood when he really needs to twist my arm.”
He pulled the wagon with his own body on it, straining against the weight of his days, the wheels in mud, the hill of his sadness rising up, snow-spotted against the blue late-winter and afternoon sky.
a wagon is a great thing to carry old farmers in. once a farmer is in a wagon, he is a farmer for life and will do the job for you till he dies. you can also put hay in a wagon. and the hay will keep your farmer warm. a wagon carries all sorts of things. a wagon has wheels. a wagon bar is a chocolate bar sold in america. farmer’s eat wagon bars. they are great to fuel energy for a long day of work. forget the calories. yay. wagons
It would be a long and desperate journey. The wagon train was filled with hopeful folks, but the hard trail would soon beat the hope out of them, leaving them with little more than faint surprise when they reached their destination alive.
The little red wagon sat in the back yard, rusted with one wheel cracked and broken. She used to pull her teddy bear around the yard in that wagon but no more. She was a big girl now.
Jump on the wagon. Come on take a ride. Let’s all have fun and take the wagon to the other side. And if we crash then who knows. The wagon doesn’t know where to go.
There i was. in that covered wagon, travling to Texas. Daddy says its the best for us, but im not sure about it anymore. We have gotten attacked by many things the days we have travled. It has been 2 months and we stil had 4 to go. There i was, in that ol, broken down wagon….
the wagon was a red piece of work. the kids dragged it all around the neighborhood and had a blast. laughing, singing, shouting, pretending… all the time was spent in a great hour.
the wagon train was full of skillets, hope chests, beans, rice, and everything that would make them happy in their new life. little did they know that they would discard everything. one by one. until nothing was left but an empty wagon and their dream.
The wagon clattered down the overgrown path. It caught potholes and got stuck behind tufts of grass as it carted its small parcel. After several hours in the hot sun the driver pulled over at a little house and jumped out. Carefully she lifted out of the wagon a small, blanket covered basket. She walked to the front door of the small cottage and set the silent bundle gently on the stoop. Then she calmly got back into her wagon and urged the horse back the way she came.
The wagon bounced dangerously, threatening to overturn at any time as we seemed to hit every rock in our path. Still my pa didn’t slow down. Instead, the used the whip to spur the team to greater speed. I was in the back, hanging onto the Winchester for all my worth, afraid the next bump would knock it out of my hands. If I let go of it, it would most likely bounce out the back of the wagon and it would then belong to the renegades chasing us. Nearly impossible to aim with the buffeting I was receiving, I did my best. The bullet flew true and I saw their leader fall only a moment before the wagon finally tipped over and threw us from it.
More wagon? Ok, little red flyer wagon…toddler’s pride & joy–stuffed full of things that need to be toted from point “a” to “b”…treasures of the first years–a bunny patched & missing an eye…a few matchbox cars and a sippy cup…don’t choke on the matchbox cars, please…
Join the band and get on the wagon. Why is it that society forces us to join the band wagon? And if we don’t? Then what happens? We have less of a reason to live, because we’re not conforming to your made-up stylized rules? It makes no sense. We don’t need constant rule. The only wagon we have a right to rule? Ourselves.
I remember the days full of wagon rides, Webkinz, lightening bugs, Tamagotchis, friends, scooters….oh how i miss those days. what i would do to go back to that completely genuine happiness..before fake smiles were introduced to me.
As the station wagon bounced down the unsteady asphalt street, Lawrence kept looking out the window toward the string of Gregorian-style houses. It looked like they had disappeared from the States and right into a Victorian English novel, or at least in Dublin, Ireland. He turned his head and found his older sister asleep beside him, her CD player still plugged into her skull.
Covered wagon…Oregon trail…stop and get supplies–shoot animals for food, but don’t get eaten by the bears. Setting off though the muck of a spring thaw–westward! Where there is land by the mile all for the taking…too bad we have to kill a bunch of indians to get it…
WAGON. Flagon. Oh no I’m doing the rhyming thing again. Lets not start that.
Do you want to caulk the wagon and float across the river? Yes. Unfortunately, you are out of caulk. The wagon sinks and everyone drowns. You suck at crossing nations or however it is that game works. Wow this is terrible. Sorry.
I once saw a little red wagon; it was not very special in any way; it was rusted and banged up; but it was a Flyer which made it special. But it had another special feature it was magical.
Let’s all jump the bandwagon! Oh, I didn’t mean that one. I mean this one. This one, right here! There’s plenty of food on this one! There’s plenty of water on this one! Wow, there’s plenty of people ready to support us on this one! Wow, look this one is safe, stable, and even has my favorite candy.
When i was a kid i had a wagon. No, not a red flyer or one with the really cool wooden supports on the side, but a plain ordinary black wagon, complete with rust and wheels that my father repaired and replaced over and over again. It was a good friend.
I can always tell when you are off the wagon.
I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.
You are a better person when you are on the wagon.
Please let us help you climb back on.
Lots of kids have a toy red wagon. I used to have one. It was small but it was big enough to carry me. There is also the wagon that the pioneers used to travel west. When a whole bunch of wagons were traveling together, it was a called a wagon train.
My little red wagon how I played with it all summer long. It went where ever I went without one word of complaint. My little red wagon is no more. I haven’t seen it in years. Oh where oh where do you go? So I can show my children and grandchildren the joy we shared.
The little girl walked along side the road, tugging her red wagon behind her. Her yellow flowery dressed billowed out underneath her as the evening’s breeze rolled in. She skipped and hummed as she carried along, her Red Rover wagon following behind.
Life had been hard, before. Not that it wasn’t anymore, I mean… but it was different then. It was almost the same everyday, like variations on a theme. Chores and labor and work and chores and labor and work and chores and…
But then we packed up and bundled ourselves into the wagon. They told us it would be easier in the end; more play, less work. More time for ourselves and for eachother, they said. We just had to get into our wagon and ride, arrive, refresh our lives.
Time was the killer.
The hardest days of all were the wagon days. Day in, day out. No variation. Just sit and sit and sit and sit wait and sit and sit and watch and sit and sit and sit. . .
Pull me, push you, chase me, come through. Follow me through the forest, we’re going somewhere new.
some peop;e use red wagons to pull stuff. they can be used to pull stuff up hills or down hills or just to carry stuff. wagons are very helpful.
The wagon wheels turn. One by one, in groups of four. Wheeling down the road, within the open prairie, not a worry in the world. Life was so simple back then. How did it change so drastically? Science? Technology? Maybe those things aren’t so innovative after all.
Wagon
Didn’t have one. Can you believe that? I never had a red wagon to ride around in as a child.
I also think of covered wagons. Remember how people sometimes had a single wagon wheel as a yard decoration? Maybe leaning against a tree? I remember, several times, thinking about locations where I’d seen lone wagon wheels and imagining gathering them up to make new wagons.
I never expected to see it in city centre. It’s surely something unusual and a bit extraordinary, but I guess that was exactly what newlyweds wanted. Still in my opinion, driving through main square in old fashioned wagon is simply showing off.
The wagon dragged along, down the hill, down the bumpy track, stumbling occasionally. But it must carry its loads to the lake. Finally, to drown by its own weight.
You can’t ride in my little blue wagon, the back seats broken, and the axil’s draggin’!
Although I’ve had many wonderful, school spirited, high school memories, I don’t think I will miss it very much. At all.
As the covered wagon strolled over the rocky valleys I walked beside the horses talking to them.
it’s the shaggin wagon. oh joy – this day is too beautiful not to take a ride in it. so let your hair fling back like branches in the wind and love that breeze flowing through your inhibitions. don’t take that personally, just take happiness as it is
John glanced curiously at the old wooden wagon sitting by the entrance to 221 as he made his way in after work. He could just barely make out a skull and crossbones in faded, painted black, a raggedy black flag tied around the handle. “Sherlock,” he asked whn he got upstairs to find the detective seething over a manilla envelope, “What was that old wagon doing outside?”
“You’ve just missed Mycroft,” Sherlock muttered, waving the envelope as though that were proof enough. “He always seems to be able to dredge up a piece of my childhood when he really needs to twist my arm.”
He pulled the wagon with his own body on it, straining against the weight of his days, the wheels in mud, the hill of his sadness rising up, snow-spotted against the blue late-winter and afternoon sky.
Just hop on the wagon and let’s get goin’!! There ain’t no time to slow down; you gotta just take a runnin leap!
a wagon is a great thing to carry old farmers in. once a farmer is in a wagon, he is a farmer for life and will do the job for you till he dies. you can also put hay in a wagon. and the hay will keep your farmer warm. a wagon carries all sorts of things. a wagon has wheels. a wagon bar is a chocolate bar sold in america. farmer’s eat wagon bars. they are great to fuel energy for a long day of work. forget the calories. yay. wagons
Many people talk about hitching to someone’s wagon.
No one talks about being the wagon.
I am the wagon. I am carrying the packs across the trail. If we die of dysentary, I die of dysentary. Everyone dies of dysentary.
Wagon
Fond memory. Newly separated. Two babies. No car. Had to get from there to here. Blanket. Red wagon. Two little girls. Off we go.
It would be a long and desperate journey. The wagon train was filled with hopeful folks, but the hard trail would soon beat the hope out of them, leaving them with little more than faint surprise when they reached their destination alive.
The little red wagon sat in the back yard, rusted with one wheel cracked and broken. She used to pull her teddy bear around the yard in that wagon but no more. She was a big girl now.
Jump on the wagon. Come on take a ride. Let’s all have fun and take the wagon to the other side. And if we crash then who knows. The wagon doesn’t know where to go.
There i was. in that covered wagon, travling to Texas. Daddy says its the best for us, but im not sure about it anymore. We have gotten attacked by many things the days we have travled. It has been 2 months and we stil had 4 to go. There i was, in that ol, broken down wagon….
the wagon was a red piece of work. the kids dragged it all around the neighborhood and had a blast. laughing, singing, shouting, pretending… all the time was spent in a great hour.
the wagon train was full of skillets, hope chests, beans, rice, and everything that would make them happy in their new life. little did they know that they would discard everything. one by one. until nothing was left but an empty wagon and their dream.
We’re as happy as can be- wagging on the wagon
The wagon clattered down the overgrown path. It caught potholes and got stuck behind tufts of grass as it carted its small parcel. After several hours in the hot sun the driver pulled over at a little house and jumped out. Carefully she lifted out of the wagon a small, blanket covered basket. She walked to the front door of the small cottage and set the silent bundle gently on the stoop. Then she calmly got back into her wagon and urged the horse back the way she came.
The wagon bounced dangerously, threatening to overturn at any time as we seemed to hit every rock in our path. Still my pa didn’t slow down. Instead, the used the whip to spur the team to greater speed. I was in the back, hanging onto the Winchester for all my worth, afraid the next bump would knock it out of my hands. If I let go of it, it would most likely bounce out the back of the wagon and it would then belong to the renegades chasing us. Nearly impossible to aim with the buffeting I was receiving, I did my best. The bullet flew true and I saw their leader fall only a moment before the wagon finally tipped over and threw us from it.
i jumped on the wagon of weight loss
in search for inner and outer beauty
just like you wanted
i attacked myself to change it all
so i could make it happen
just like you wanted
i dying inside and trapped in my sadness
to make you proud of me
but you didn’t want that
and now i’m alone
this is not what i wanted
More wagon? Ok, little red flyer wagon…toddler’s pride & joy–stuffed full of things that need to be toted from point “a” to “b”…treasures of the first years–a bunny patched & missing an eye…a few matchbox cars and a sippy cup…don’t choke on the matchbox cars, please…
Enigma
Join the band and get on the wagon. Why is it that society forces us to join the band wagon? And if we don’t? Then what happens? We have less of a reason to live, because we’re not conforming to your made-up stylized rules? It makes no sense. We don’t need constant rule. The only wagon we have a right to rule? Ourselves.
I remember the days full of wagon rides, Webkinz, lightening bugs, Tamagotchis, friends, scooters….oh how i miss those days. what i would do to go back to that completely genuine happiness..before fake smiles were introduced to me.
As the station wagon bounced down the unsteady asphalt street, Lawrence kept looking out the window toward the string of Gregorian-style houses. It looked like they had disappeared from the States and right into a Victorian English novel, or at least in Dublin, Ireland. He turned his head and found his older sister asleep beside him, her CD player still plugged into her skull.
Covered wagon…Oregon trail…stop and get supplies–shoot animals for food, but don’t get eaten by the bears. Setting off though the muck of a spring thaw–westward! Where there is land by the mile all for the taking…too bad we have to kill a bunch of indians to get it…
WAGON. Flagon. Oh no I’m doing the rhyming thing again. Lets not start that.
Do you want to caulk the wagon and float across the river? Yes. Unfortunately, you are out of caulk. The wagon sinks and everyone drowns. You suck at crossing nations or however it is that game works. Wow this is terrible. Sorry.
I once saw a little red wagon; it was not very special in any way; it was rusted and banged up; but it was a Flyer which made it special. But it had another special feature it was magical.
Let’s all jump the bandwagon! Oh, I didn’t mean that one. I mean this one. This one, right here! There’s plenty of food on this one! There’s plenty of water on this one! Wow, there’s plenty of people ready to support us on this one! Wow, look this one is safe, stable, and even has my favorite candy.
When i was a kid i had a wagon. No, not a red flyer or one with the really cool wooden supports on the side, but a plain ordinary black wagon, complete with rust and wheels that my father repaired and replaced over and over again. It was a good friend.
I can always tell when you are off the wagon.
I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.
You are a better person when you are on the wagon.
Please let us help you climb back on.
Lots of kids have a toy red wagon. I used to have one. It was small but it was big enough to carry me. There is also the wagon that the pioneers used to travel west. When a whole bunch of wagons were traveling together, it was a called a wagon train.