Miles

BY CHARLOTTE BECKER

IT'S very far away to Greece,
And far to Timbuctoo,
Yet it's not half so far, my dear,
As just from me to you.

Since if you ever got to them
You'd see what was to see—
But though you're in here every day
You never could know me.

Ah, strange it is, what you and I
Must miss by mile on mile,
And, hurt or happy, never may
Come nearer than a smile!

AUTUMN LEAVES

They are turning around as they fall
to the ground.

Red and brown, turn around.

One, two, three,
Fall on me!

When I walk and walk through the
hard dry leaves

They seem to talk...

Talk, leaves, talk!

Sounds like potato chips a-crunching,
Creak and crunch!

Crunch, leaves, crunch!

—First-Grade Class, Room 102,
Gunckel School, Toledo, Ohio

Trade Teachers - October 1960

AUTUMN LEAVES

Red and brown, turn around.

One, two, three,

Fall on me!

They seem to talk ...

Talk, leaves, talk!

Crunch, leaves, crunch!