Peaceful Poetry

Ethan Park Mrs Schmitt 6/7 :))

On Comes Winter

The sun yearns for its final hour

Waiting final days for the flower

The

Leaves

Plummet

To

The

Ground

And soon there won't be any found.

The kids they wait for lights and gifts,

And wait upon for santos mist.

Sound of bells--Dasher comes,

And behind him will be left some crumbs.

But for now the children play in leaves,

And frolick in the autumn breeze.


The sun yearns for its final hour

Waiting final days for the flower.

The

Leaves

Plummet

To

The

Ground

And soon--

There won't be any found.

-Ethan D. Park

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