Miley Gilmore


The sun shines of the wood like a reflection in a mirror. The sweet, sweet smell of pine trees perfumes the walls. The children play and laugh as they have a snow ball fight. The fire roars and cracks as loud as broken glass.When darkness wakes the children return. As the Moon rises the family falls into a sweet but deep, deep sleep. As they rise with the sun they do the preparations for the day. The children once again go and play.

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Poem Edited: Sunday, January 10, 2010

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