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A WHITE POEM

When I think of white
I see mist in the quiet air,
Round snowflakes falling silently
And waves crashing against the rocks.
I feel calm and relaxed
Like leaves floating in the wind.
I smell pine trees  
In the tall, snowy mountains
And the air before Christmas.
White is a snowball
Flying across the frosty winter.
 
 
 
 
 
 


Comments

I like the idea. Me personally? I wouldn't feel like a leaf blowing in the wind. However, this is your opinion and your poem and I think it is great.

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