All on a cloudless afternoon
We walked into the drowsy June.
Through meadows wide, across a stile,
We must have walked a country mile
Into a leafy, whispering wood
Where tree-sentinel soldiers stood.
Searching bushes low we found
Luscious berries near the ground,
Hanging there in clusters neat,
Tantalizing, purple-sweet.
We picked and ate some, saved some too.
See! Our hands are purple blue.
~ Vilet Bennett
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