Poetry about my love of literature

Spring in the eye of a needle

The quilt floated on the bed like a cloud.

Every hovercraft is the son of 13 years old.

fly round and round

Laughter filled the room.

The wife sat on the bed carefully.

Roll your tongue.

Let the stories in fairy tales grow up.

Use a needle on one side

On the cuff of my son's short cotton-padded jacket.

Embroider beautiful spring