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Literature Text
The wistful wind
The tide of the trees
The red and gold color
Of crisp fallen leaves
The vast green floor
And blue tapestries
Blew right through me
With the gentle breeze
My peaceful heart
Knows its home
This great rock
Of which I roam
The tide of the trees
The red and gold color
Of crisp fallen leaves
The vast green floor
And blue tapestries
Blew right through me
With the gentle breeze
My peaceful heart
Knows its home
This great rock
Of which I roam
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Comments17
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great rhyming. Love the simplicity and the imagery. Well done!