Wednesday, 24 May 2017

My favourite place poem.

My Grandparents cottage was usual enough; It had
a hammock, a droopy willow tree, a pond, an old playhouse and even a 2 story wooden shabby shed that sat on the cold pebbles.  My sister cousins and I did what we loved to do, Gallop round in our togs, splosh pond water on each other, relax on the swaying hammock whilst eating my Nana’s melting gooey chocolate.
The warm summer days got cooler as it got later. All we did was lay on the fresh grass doing nothing important.

Rosie A Neal

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