The Surf
We took the baby
(Three years old)
To the beach at Lloyd's Neck.
A cold northern day and the wind was crisping surf on the beach.
She looked at the white foam
And heard its rhyming prosody.
" Snow, " she announced.
" Snow saying, Sorrow to come in,
Sorrow to come in. "
(Three years old)
To the beach at Lloyd's Neck.
A cold northern day and the wind was crisping surf on the beach.
She looked at the white foam
And heard its rhyming prosody.
" Snow, " she announced.
" Snow saying, Sorrow to come in,
Sorrow to come in. "
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