It was such fun to jump in autumn puddles,
that made mud spatters on my red wellies
and pale, sun starved legs,
in weather too wet to kick up the leaves
that lay swept soggily into piles.
And when winter came, such fun
to leap into snow drifts
that came over the tops of my red wellies
and my extra socks
as I tested the deepness of the snow
and the slipperiness of the ice slide.
Come the summer rain, I tried on my red wellies
but they had grown too small or me too large,
so I got my feet wet when I jumped in the stream.
Such fun, but I missed my red wellies.
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