Pond District – A poem by Mr. Wilfred Ginge


If it wasn’t for this
The one, when we were,
Walking up the cliff in Pond District,
Where I looked over yonder at the twinkly river
Whilst chit chatting with other fluffs.
Hark! A mouse!
Where?
Just there, with flip flops on
We spared him his all but tiny life.
He scampered down yonder with his sun lotion and towel
The sparkly sun began to fall as we drank sauce and ate Frazzles.


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