Have the broken cookie that's left? No, I don't mind.
For you know broken cookies are one of a kind.
My hair is not combed and I need a manicure -
One that through scrubbing dishes the color endures.
Dust - I dusted away but some is back again.
A dress I shortened myself has a crooked hem.
This summer I'll sip peach juice with champagne on ice
And make lemonade from lemons - a paradise!
Gayle Sweeney's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Summer Dreams by Gayle Sweeney )
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