Page 2 - Rhythm & Rhyme-C
P. 2
The Swing
Under the tree flowers grow,
On my swing I love to go.
Up so high, I touch the breeze,
Down I glide between the trees.
Birds fly past and wave hello,
Clouds drift gently, soft and slow.
I feel like I could touch the sky,
As up I soar and down I fly!
2 Rhymes-C
