Grandma’s White Velvet Palace
by Lord R.e. Taylor
My finest memories were at my grandma’s house
It was way far out in a forest that she loved
Summer, spring, and fall were beautiful
But, for me, winter was always the best
Only then was her house no longer just a house
It became her palace, surrounded by white velvet
© Poem – XXIII/II/MMXXV
LRET
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