In California we like to eat oranges
The Mountains are stately and purple
The broad ocean shines silver
We enjoy the sun every day of the month
But nothing rhymes with oranges, purple, silver, or month,
So this poem just died.
(Check for yourself.)
Beautiful picture. I like it. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what about onth upon a time? Sick old guy, 'I've been illver years.' Wyatt Earp'll be seen in purple, Before Ange will get me an orange?