NaomiRayne

Smoke Blows

    A tree that grows,

           Spreads many ways.

    A bird who chirps,

           Sings a whole song.

    A fire that smokes,

           Turns into a flame.

Don\'t repeat . . . move forward.

      May the tree grow old,

      May the bird have strong lungs,

      May the fire grow proud,

                and never stop.