The Sea, The Sea, The Sea. It

The Sea, The Sea, The Sea. It Rolled And Rolled And Called To Me. Come In, It Said, Come In.

I Wondered About Mrs. Winterbottom And What She Meant About Living A Tiny Life. If She Didn't Like All That Baking And Cleaning And Jumping Up To Get Bottles Of Nail Polish Remover And Sewing Hems, Why Did She Do It? Why Didn't She Tell Them To Do Some Of The Things Themselves? Maybe She Was Afraid There Would Be Nothing Left For Her To Do. There Would Be No Need For Her And She Would Become Invisible And No One Would Notice.

What Exactly Did People Do When They Had All The Time In The World And Could Do Whatever They Liked?

I Don't Want To Because Boys Don't Write Poetry. Girls Do.

How Can You Love A Little Cat So Much In Such A Short Short Time?