Paint chip poems

An English county
Lively but grey as can be
She stood staring far

A windstorm is coming
Whistles and swirls pass by her
She continues to stare

Everyone runs past
And as the wind grows stronger
Motionless she stares








S- itting on a bed of grass
O- n a warm summer
F- riday
T- elling a story to
M- y friend
E- dward
A- bout how beautiful the world around them was
D- elighted he smiled and laughed and
O- n this warm summer day
W- e smiled and laughed lying in the soft meadow