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Thursday, 30 July 2020

My poem

The storm

The storm is a Feroucious lion,

Terrifying and wild.

It pounces and lunges across the land,

Like a humungous grey and black boulder.

The storm roars and growls,

It chews done the trees and buildings one by one,

Completely wild, it won’t stop until it’s done.

Raging, roaring and stomping,

Wild, furious and furoucious.



By Carys

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