When Anne and I go out a walk,
We hold each other's hand and talk
Of all the things we mean to do
When Anne and I are forty-two.
And when we've thought about a thing,
Like bowling hoops or bicycling,
Or falling down on Anne's balloon,
We do it in the afternoon.
Showing posts with label A.A. Milne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A.A. Milne. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
The Morning Walk
- A.A. Milne
Labels:
A.A. Milne,
Poetry,
The Morning Walk
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