Gunnar
Happiness. It runs around in the room gleefully. It enjoys life. Its attitude spreads like wildfire. It loves flowers. And when it leaves leaves I am too grumpy to finish the rest of this poem . . .
Maxwell
Hush rushing sea,
for you are too loud.
Be gentle silent rocks
for you are too rough.
Be calm gentle child
for you are safe with me.
2 comments:
Well said.
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