There was a young man named Blewitt
Who stood on a hilltop in Druitt
He measured its height
And said with delight
It’s not a hill – it’s a mountain – I knew it!
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Published by sensualism
With my head in the sky and my wings in the air, I try to spend my spare time at the footy (AFL in Australia) Go Pies! – and valuable hours with family and friends. Otherwise I’ll have pen in hand and notebook at the ready for those insightful snippets that dream up a poem.
I contribute to Cosmofunnel where you’ll find a guided universe of poetry and art.
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