I'm a busy bee.
I prance to the park at three.
Free of clouds, I see.
I feel the cool air.
A dream of wind, do I dare?
There, I glimpse a mare.
Soon, I wonder back;
Follow the red and black track;
Crack the blue backpack.
I will eat my cheese.
The day puts me at quick ease.
Breeze and a break please!
Monday, January 21, 2013
Busy Bee
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