It has come to my attention that April is poetry month. I jumped the gun with my recent haiku but let me see if I can indulge in a daily poetic effort for the month.
But no promises.
But no promises.
The sun shines cold and bright.
Geese pass by in flight.
The Little Farmer will laugh and play
And briefly nap throughout the day.
The day bodes well for Grammy time.
And look, I even made it rhyme!
Geese pass by in flight.
The Little Farmer will laugh and play
And briefly nap throughout the day.
The day bodes well for Grammy time.
And look, I even made it rhyme!
Hey, I just promised poetry, not Shakespeare or Robert Frost.
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