On its way

by Jane   Dec 17, 2004


The sun rises,
over the hill,
shining down on us,
like it always will.

The wind will always,
be seen in its way,
blowing though trees,
and scattering hay.

When it snow,
everyone knows,
that winters,
on its way.

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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by Michael

    GAH! I HEART THIS POEM SOOOO MUCH! A FANTASTIC JOB!

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