A seed in the ground,
It starts off small,
But it becomes a mound,
A mound in the ground,
No matter rain or shine,
Each day it grows,
If oak or pine,
Primrose or rue
It grows and grows,
Amd lets its beauty show.
YOU ARE READING
poems
PoetryBook of poetry. I don't expect you to understand it, but please don't laugh. I don't write poetry usually, but I really need to.
