Hornbill, Hornbill there you are,
Soaring, Soaring really far.
For your home, you use mud,
to keep safe your little bud.
Hornbill, Hornbill you see me,
and I see you in your tree.
Even though you don't sway,
I still like you any way.
original poetry
by Eliz age 10
1 comments:
That's a great poem Elizabeth!
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