All our heads high from entry, It was all fantastic with poetry. Something without distraction, It was all enhanced by our attention. We had fun and frolic, joy and pleasure, That could be our leisure. They made jokes, That could touch our hearts too close. They were our poets, And we were all absolutely quiet. It had something with school, That could make us cool. It said something about nature, And not something about creatures. They asked us to write a poem, That could tell us about their poem. “Their poem were a bouquet of flowers, In which every flower had its own color.” It was a treasure of poems, And a mixture of grace; It was their Read more →suggestion, And it is my projection. Nothing more to say, All in its way.