Jumping *out Of Airplanes Without* A Parachute
J
James McLain
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Playing ground great joy I find
in holding you.
Are not the trees your arms to
reach for me in glee.
Under canopy of wings I fly
whiping of a windful song
to sing.
Masters sky egale eye we meet
to speak.
Floating wing to arm no harm he
drifts away.
No saddle on his back we fly away.
Bu şiiri puanla
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