The Park
The park was a special place
Where we ran and climbed
It was fun each Saturday
As we recovered from the grind
We took the family dog
On the bright sunny days
It was exercise for us all
And left us feeling great
Squirrels played there about
Very nervous in the wind
They climbed the trees hurriedly
With hawks watching over them
Joggers went around the track
On a scenic little path
With starlings there on the ground
Searching fresh-cut grass
There was a slide and a see-saw
Where the children liked to play
They laughed going up and down
And pleaded that we stay
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Author:
w c (
Offline) - Published: December 28th, 2017 14:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments1
I like it. Very good writing.
Thank you, Jean! I really appreciate your comment.
You're welcome, and by the way, Jean R. R. Branson is just a pen name I came up with from a generator.
Also, could you check out my poem 'Sadness', it's my second poem but first posting?
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