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Nonsense Poems

Tell me what you think in my guestbook.

It was a fine December Morn,
In April, last July:
The moon lay thick upon the ground,
And the snow shone in the sky.

The flowers were sweetly singing,
The birds were in full bloom:
So I climbed down in the basement,
To clear the upstairs room.

The time was Tuesday morning,
Wednesday, just at night;
When I saw ten thousand miles away,
A house, just out of sight.

The doors projected backwards,
The front was at the back;
It stood alone, between two more,
And it was whitewashed black.

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