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THE GNOME
They did not believe me,
But I told them it’s true,
The gnome in my garden,
Lives in his own rooms,
Under the oak tree,
the little chap Rome’s,
I watched as he goes there,
In his shiny gnome clothes.
I see him quite often,
Running out there,
But because he’s so fast,
You have to stare.
Early one morning,
He stopped by my side,
The cheeky young gnome,
Just could not hide.
I looked and I nodded,
Good morning I said,
And he waved and he chuckled,
As he shook his small head.
OK you’ve seen me,
He said with a smile,
I could not believe it,
he spoke for a while.
So next time you think,
There’s a gnome in your yard,
you’d better believe it,
For they’re not very far.
By B Kingsford Copy Write 2,003
THE GNOME
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