Thursday 15 June 2017

Native Bush Poem.

                                               Native Poem:

The trees were swaying in the breeze like a graceful cloud moving through the open sky,
Birds perched high in the trees singing lovely songs,
The leaves came floating down as they hit the ground we crushed them,
The astonishing flowers smelt better than fresh strawberry's,
The jagged stones pierced my feet as I walked along the path.

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