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Title: The king of swings

by Mavis from Hertfordshire | in writing, poetry

Once I saw a little girl,
Swinging to and fro,
On the king of swings of course,
How could you not know?

What a merry swing it was,
Until one day had come,
With dark grey clouds and lights so bright,
That the swing became too glum.

It wouldn't swing for anyone,
And all those years had past,
But then came that little girl,
She ran but oh so fast.

That little girl had grown up now,
She was oh so fine.
The swing became all happy too.
He said "your trust is mine".

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