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Monday, January 6, 2014

Monday's Poem: Papa Sled

Papa Sled

Papa Sled slides
over kitchen floor snow;
we ride on his back,
and we don't slide slow.

Papa Sled swooshes
up white frozen hills
and swings to the right.
Oops!  Sister took a spill.

Papa sled swishes
down steep, slippery hills
and leans to the left.
Oops!  Brother took a spill.

Papa sled rushes
up and down, left and right;
I'm still on the sled.
I'm hanging on tight.

Snowmama steps
over Papa Sled's head
with a steaming hot loaf
of homemade bread.

Snowmama sings,
"There's hot, creamy soup,"
and we all take our places
at the table with a "Whoop!"

                                   Anne Knowles

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