finnbar rocks
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
Winter Poem
The grey clouds hang in the sky like many balloons.
The cool wind races across my face.
My feet drag across the soggy, brown hills.
The brown leaves blaze across the wet fields.
As tears of rain drop onto my face.
by Finn
New Zealand
kettle
Korn
In the holidays we got pop corn that we could not open.
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