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Deep in the overgrown garden behind a half-forgotten cottage, she lived. She carried a wand, a snapped twig bound with ribbon and glitter.
In every corner in my sight, I see the dust clinging tight. Inside the books, and the window sill, The dust just sits; Quiet and still.
Why is my bed do lumpy. ** Have you ever had that feeling when you go to sleep after a long day of tidying your bedroom that when you go to bed its all lumpy.
#Household Hmm... Dust, I bet you have a most interesting story to tell. About the place where you came from and about where you fell. A strange poem I'm writing about i'm sure you'll see.
Hmm... Dust, I bet you have a most interesting story to tell. About the place where you came from and about where you fell. A strange poem I'm writing about i'm sure you'll see. A poem about dust?...
I tidied up my room today, Oh heck, was that a task. It's like the 'room of requirement', All you need's to ask.