The Gray BeetleA beetle was born, on a leaf, in a tree,he was gray, like a day full of rain ought to be,He was small, and had wings which would fly very well,tucked away, on his back, underneath his gray shell.There he stood, way up high, and surveyed what he saw.His whole world was the gray of his shiny left claw.From the leaf he was on to the farthest far peakshe saw gray grass and gray trees and splashy gray creeks.But far off in the distance, on the edge of the world,at the tip of a cloud a pale colored mist swirled.The farthest and faintest bright cloud in the skies,swirled with color and beauty that shone in his eyes."I must kn
btw loving everything about this pic~