Today I’m featuring a poem written by my 7-year-old son Sam. It was found in the bottom of his backpack among the wad of crumpled school work.
“Fiore D’inverno” by Shock2006
Winter looks like hot cookies.
Winter tastes like hot chocolate.
Winter smells like cookies.
Winter feels like a rainy day.
Winter sounds like soft pillows.
Winter tastes like hot chocolate.
Winter smells like cookies.
Winter feels like a rainy day.
Winter sounds like soft pillows.
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