by Amelia Walker
Each one is different,
none the same
sun to blame
for making them melt
but in spring,
the flowers blossom,
the green grass I felt
under my bare feet,
and in summer
the fresh tomatoes taste
cool and sweet,
in autumn I collect
leaves to paste
onto a paper to display
on the wall, now winter
comes, hip hip hooray!
Now impatiently we wait
for Christmas day
and those delicate
crystals of ice
are back again.
Yay Amelia! This is lovely.
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