There was a town,
Called 'Windy Teeth',
With land above,
And wheels beneath;
And every one,
Within that town,
Lived in a windmill,
Of blue and brown.
It started small,
With one or two,
And soon were dozens -
Then hundreds flew!
So each and every
Windy day:
The town would simply
...Roll away.
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Six foot three bespectacled ginger-bearded designer and illustrator. I also poetify with rhymification. www.waynedorrington.co.uk
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