Poetry and prose for contests. The occasional "slider" poem. |
| I love to walk each night with him, the boy with hair so blonde and sweet. The streets are calm, the world, his gym a wave to all we see and meet. He tells me jokes, we stroll and laugh A clever boy of eight and a half. I'm ever thankful for this fun, and that God gifted me a son! Form Info ▶︎ ![]()
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