Two poems by Jack Prelutsky that were read at least six times each before nap today:
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One old owl upon a tree
high atop a hill,
watched the forest silently
while the night was still.
One old owl looked around,
while the moon was bright,
flapped its wings without a sound
and flew into the night.
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Baby in a high chair,
baby in a bib,
baby in a stroller,
baby in a crib.
Baby with the giggles,
baby with a smile,
such a lovely baby,
happy all the while.
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