APP Mt High
stitched by Anna
The secret's out..while breezing by,
March whispered "Winter's past"
Now from this windy hill
we fly our flags of spring at last,
a day you feel so free
until, oops, you hit a tree,
You try again and then reel it in.
Don't give up,
mend and patch
then hold it up
the wind to catch...it flies!
B.Burg
