Stories by Grandpa: #20, The Windmill Blows



When the windmill blows

It grasps the cool air,

From a calm picture

To a mysterious flare.

It doesn’t matter where you live,

Anywhere in the world is fine.

You can see the beautiful lines.

It can be a symbol of love,

A symbol of care.

You can enjoy it anywhere.

   ~    A Poem by Elliot, Grade 2