TOMMY ON NATURE.
Reading edition
The blossoms ripple in a sea About the garden way, And on that old black apple-tree, With bluebirds more than gay, I watch those fragrant flakes of snow That tremble in the air, And in the breezes softly blow, And frolic here and there. I think that Nature is too slow— For she that blossom spray Should turn to apples all aglow, And do it right away. R. K. Munkittrick.