COLLAGE WITHOUT FEAR
No time to waste at the bus stop,
Young artists were busy as bees,
They painted their village so brightly,
The houses, the flowers, the trees.
They figured that all would admire it
as they stood in the winter freeze.
And they did.
Though they shuffled with hands in their pockets,
And longed for the bus to appear,
They were thankful they lived in the village
With their collage of life without fear.