So bright shines the sun,
So cool feels the wind.
My feet pad lightly on the soft ground.
I breathe in deeply, my lungs burning from the cold air.
I flop down on the grass,
And stare up at the sky.
The leaves sway in the wind.
My eyes burn as I stare at the sun.
My hair tangles with the grass,
And my eyes match the sky.
My skin is the color of the ground,
I am one with the Earth, I breathe its air.
Sometimes my feet sink into the ground,
And rain falls from the sky.
Then behind a could goes the sun,
And whooshing past my ears is the wind,
And I smell storm in the air.
Then a lush green becomes the grass.
Or brown turns the grass,
And still becomes the wind.
Then hard to breathe becomes the air,
And sweltering becomes the sun,
And bright blue becomes the sky.
Then dry and cracked becomes the ground.
Sometimes the snow piles up on the ground,
And gray becomes the sky.
Away for a while goes the sun.
Swirls of white blow in my face from the wind.
Each breath brings snowflakes mixed with freezing air.
Under mounds of snow disappears the grass.
I love the Earth, whether the sun
Is in sight or the wind
Still blows, disrupting the calm air.
Whether the ground
Is soft or the sky
Is gray or brown is the grass.
This will certify that the above work is completely original. Sophia Cramer.
So cool feels the wind.
My feet pad lightly on the soft ground.
I breathe in deeply, my lungs burning from the cold air.
I flop down on the grass,
And stare up at the sky.
The leaves sway in the wind.
My eyes burn as I stare at the sun.
My hair tangles with the grass,
And my eyes match the sky.
My skin is the color of the ground,
I am one with the Earth, I breathe its air.
Sometimes my feet sink into the ground,
And rain falls from the sky.
Then behind a could goes the sun,
And whooshing past my ears is the wind,
And I smell storm in the air.
Then a lush green becomes the grass.
Or brown turns the grass,
And still becomes the wind.
Then hard to breathe becomes the air,
And sweltering becomes the sun,
And bright blue becomes the sky.
Then dry and cracked becomes the ground.
Sometimes the snow piles up on the ground,
And gray becomes the sky.
Away for a while goes the sun.
Swirls of white blow in my face from the wind.
Each breath brings snowflakes mixed with freezing air.
Under mounds of snow disappears the grass.
I love the Earth, whether the sun
Is in sight or the wind
Still blows, disrupting the calm air.
Whether the ground
Is soft or the sky
Is gray or brown is the grass.
This will certify that the above work is completely original. Sophia Cramer.



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