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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#18851voted by our readers
By Anonymous
A day at the pond and the birds are chirping. Fish slapping the top of the water. The smell of the great Ozark hills hovers through the thick air I sat on an old oak log, Cas...
A day at the pond and the birds are chirping. Fish slapping the top of the water. The smell of the great Ozark hills hovers through the thick air I sat on an old oak log, Cas...