Poetry: Ode To The Future

Row, row, row your boat. Gently row
I’m still paddling from yesterday,
while the seeds are dropping to sow.
I’ve stuffed a lot to what I say.

Row, row, row your boat. Gently row,
bring the wind and storm while I lay.
My eggs will hatch while the cock crow,
and today will make me so gay.

Ruddapoet

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