and then the slugs started crawling out of it.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
You are the trip I did not take;
You are the pearls i cannot buy;
You are my blue Italian lake;
You are my piece
of foreign sky.
To My Child,
Anne Campbell Stark
more more books
- why is milk white?
- bringing up bebe
- barefoot contessa back to basics
- chugga chugga choo choo
- a chicken in every yard
- farm anatomy
- village in the valley
- eleanor of aquitaine