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Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Poem 153: Room Chill

I'm heated like a hot wood stove;
I'm warm beyond belief.
My face is hot, and forehead sweat
is dripping off in sheets.

I need a large mountain of snow
to cool down my feet.
I want an ice-cold soda pop
and 52 Freezies.

I guess you cannot understand
this heat I have inside.
"Brr! Close that door.  It's cold out there"
I think I've froze my hide!

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