Smiling Tell me a story like my Mama used to tell, With birds and flowers and many a honey bee, Where good guys always rang the bell, And innocent prisoners all went free. Tell me stories of song and rhymes, Of winning through the toughest times, Of horses running free and wild, Of doctors saving every child,
Of wishing how the world could be,
Adam and Eve, no apple tree.
I could
write such fairy tales, Of gardens
green and sylvan trails, Dreaming dreams I
wish were true, Delivering dreams for me and
you. Alas, the
stories that come clear Are not the ones you want to hear. Let’s stay
silent for a while,
Grateful, now, to share a
smile.
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