By: Ardis E. Parshall - September 25, 2014 Playtime Is Over By Ivy Houtz Woolley Where are the children of yesterday?The place is here where they used to play;Its ground, packed down by romping feet,Is parched and baked with summer’s heat.It has not fallowed by snows or rain,But seems to hope they will come again.The weeds grow rank near the outer edge,And bushes which grew to be a hedgeHave thirsted and died. The brook is still,Its sh...
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