Long ago, when grass grew above my head
And trees plucked clouds out of the sky, a mile high
God spat lightening and spoke in thunder
Making me wonder what had made this patient figure lose his temper so
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And a bee on the pollen run paused to stare Till a call from the hive ran away with it And the smell of hay smells as good today But I won't let me play in it. very good poem and fine sentiments when you back into the world of memories. tony