Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ❤️‎Տթɾìղƙℓєs, if Due❤️Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
ཐི༏ཋྀ G is for the Gorse Fairy ;༊
“When Gorse is out of blossom,”
(Its prickles bare of gold)
“Then kissing’s out of fashion,”
Said country-folk of old.
Now Gorse is in its glory
In May when skies are blue,
But when its time is over,
Whatever shall we do?
❤️
O dreary would the world be,
With everyone grown cold—
Forlorn as prickly bushes
Without their fairy gold!
But this will never happen:
At every time of year
You’ll find one bit of blossom—
A kiss from someone dear!
By: C. M. Barker
       /\_/\ 
     ≽• . •≼ ❤️;༊
  ཐི༏ཋྀ  /❤️\ (  ❤️Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
‎❤️(( | | ))❤️Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ❤️Ʈђaηƙ ყღʊ❤️Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ

hi

xx

hi

Ty x

💜Şթяiηƙɭε∂💜

Fish ty x

🐟

Hippo ty x

Good morning x