A poem is a busy bee
Buzzing in your head...

A poem is a little path
That leads you through the trees...

A poem is a spider web
Spun with words of wonder...

A garden path of cobble stones,
A fairy sitting with two gnomes...

Consider the little ant.
He never says, "I can't.&quot...

It is a night of dark desire, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their cry. The dark one...

A summer storm
Stirs my slumber...

My roots are deep within you,
Growing as you grow...

Hippos swim. Hippos snort.
Hippo legs are rather short...

Little Daddy Long-legs played in the sun,
Climbing up the front steps just for fun...

In Sevilla there is a little square
hidden in the maze of streets...

My mother packed me all the things
I like to eat for lunch...