The Morning Walk

by A. A. Milne

When Anne and I go out a walk,
We hold each other’s hand and talk
Of all the things we mean to do
When Anne and I are forty-two.

And when we’ve thought about a thing,
Like bowling hoops or bicycling,
Or falling down on Anne’s balloon,
We do it in the afternoon.

Read all poems by A.A. Milne

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Alan Alexander Milne
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