For Miss Dumoulin's class.
Something told the wild geese, it was time to go. Though the fields lay golden, something whispered "snow." Leaves were green and stirring, berries luster glossed, But beneath warm feathers, something cautioned "frost." So fly, bird, fly. Winter's on the wing. Goodbye, goodbye. Come again next spring. All the sagging orchards, steamed with amber spice, but each wild bird stiffened at remembered ice. Something told the wild geese it was time to fly. Summer in their mem-'ry, winter in their cry. So fly, bird, fly. Winter's on the wing. Goodbye, goodbye. Come again next spring. Something told the wild geese, it was time to go. Something whispered "snow."
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Miss ChestermanGrade 3/4 has music 3 times a week and learn how to sing, move, and play a variety of instruments. Archives
June 2018
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