The trees that reach ever so high,
Just enough to touch the sky.
The snails move slowly ‘cross the ground,
They munch the leaves without a sound.
The apples that grow ripe and red,
Under the tree they fall on my head.
Thursday
The trees that reach ever so high, Just enough to touch the sky. The snails move slowly ‘cross the ground, They munch the leaves without a sound. The apples that grow ripe and red, Under the tree they fall on my head.
Magical moments of nature 
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