Peter came at half-past three,
Tapping sharply from an apple tree.
“Wendy, Michael, and John, too—
Come and fly; the stars want you.”
Out of the window, hand in hand,
The trio swept above the land.
Their mother's sobs fell away behind.
Another bedtime story she can't unwind.
In Neverland, the sky can't change.
The moon is weird, the sun is strange.
No one grows,...
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