Walking down the banks one day,
what did I see beside the brook?
A man lay on the soft green grass
writing poems in his book.
I wish I was like this poet.
Sitting by the babbling brook,
I’d spend my hours writing happy songs
of nymphs and fairies in my book.
wordsofhope 
Wow! You’re really doing a super job. Love it
Thank you very much! I really appreciate your encouragement.