Winston Soldevilla

A Pard, A Sward

I stood before a valley,
And set my eyes free.
It had caught something grassy
And made it jumped and flee.

It landed upon a green sward.
Refreshing indeed!
It crawled over there.
It found something a pard
To help not sear
Its new found land Sward.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 8, 2012

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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