My Son the Poet
Nature
There is a soft wind
Trees gently swaying rocking
Deer walk quietly
--written by my nine-year-old
My sons enjoy nature alright until BEES! Then they run screaming into the house.
Poor bees.
There is a soft wind
Trees gently swaying rocking
Deer walk quietly
--written by my nine-year-old
My sons enjoy nature alright until BEES! Then they run screaming into the house.
Poor bees.
no subject
Ah yes, bees.... not everyone can be a Stephen when it comes to bees, some have more in common with Jack (and Killick). I'm fine with bees (which tend to travel singly in these parts and mind their own buiness) but wasps!
Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!