Feb 25
poem 0 comments challenge: Morning

The Song

 
It was a beautiful morning and nothing was wrong
I sat on my bed and listened to the song
The song made up of little birds 
The song made up of deers in herds
Hooves tramping on the ground
Frogs croaking all around
Wind weaving through the trees 
The droning buzz of the bees
Put into a beautiful song
On the morning where nothing was wrong...


 
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