Thursday, January 2, 2003
I climbed the ladder way to the top
Of the sliding board that was so hot.
The sun beating down gave me such a frown
When I sat on my bottom and slid to the ground.
I ran to the swings that went high and low.
You must hold on tight I'm sure you know.
The seesaw, I know I must have a friend
To sit across from me at the other end.
We went up and down so very high,
I felt I could reach and touch the sky.
I must go home now and help Mother cook,
And after dinner she reads me a book--
The Non-Violent Stories and Poems book
By Teresa Macaulay; you should take look.