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The sky was blue, the plants covered in dew, and the spring made it all feel so new. Everything in your head could melt away with a morning in the mountains surrounded by a foggy grey.
Swirls on a piece of paper Dancing to make a scene Filled with colors of a waking sky
Enveloped in a blanket of sauna, the weight of humidity calms me. Faint breezes bare relief only when I need it. Our porch seems to sit like a tree house Here in the branches of my childhood climbing tree.
A cloud so unreliableto provide such decent shadethough many stop to watch themthey're perfect, they're God made..They're made of wispy waterso white up in the skycollections of lovely ice
Its cold in the twelve month. When winter comes and Summer ends. When the rays of sunshine turn to cloudy skies and chilly winds. When the snow falls in a rush, a flurry of white.
He was gone before I could meet him Still, I knew him The pictures hung on the wall Lonely. The scenic views he saw His passion apparent in every stroke Charcol smeared and painted
She stood, hair lapping in the frigid night air, at the coast. The rocky barrier separated the gravel road from a smooth, black and lapping bay. It was pitch black, like thick coffee with grinds that managed to escape into the brew. Lapping.
Whisper-red clouds in the dusky day A wheel of passion upon the sky Puzzles of earth growing nigh Whipped with wind dancing to the free And children singing in the dusky day