Summer In Maine

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  • Seasons

    Summer In Maine

    Summer has come to Maine,
    The birds are singing,
    Butterflies are winging,
    As we walk down the lane.

    It is so green it hurts the eyes,
    The flowers seem to burst over night,
    And all the birds are in flight,
    We have beautiful clouds and blue skies.

    It seems to go so fast,
    Time has no stopping,
    When everything is popping,
    Then it is all past. 

    Evie Fisher

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Evie’s Poems (1)

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