The green gate creaks.

Her socks one up - one down.

It squeaks as she swings.

She sings as it squeaks.

Happy for once as she plays.

The path is wrapped in lavender.

It always smells so nice.

Don't touch, she will know.

The pebbles fear to move,

Brave leaves sleep on the path. 

Curler lady comes smiling, kind.

Her sweeping brush is old,

Maybe her m...

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