On my way home


I met a girl called Autumn,

Her skin as soft as a freshly made petal,

Her eyes Hazel as a ancient crunched up leaf,

She swayed through the wind like a bird through the warm breeze.


 I met a boy called Lightning,

His skin as hot as fire and as dangerous as electric,

His eyes filled with thunder,

He ruins the world by making light fly down in, funny lines setting flames as high as Mount Everest.


I met a girl called Joy,

Her skin as smooth as a buttercup,

Her eyes filled with happiness,

She fills up with Joy when she sees her friend glancing with wonder.


I met a girl called Winter,

Her skin as cold as ice,

Her eyes filled with frosted specs,

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