" Nakita's Breeze "
Nikita speaks of rainbows blue,
Much as we do try so too.
Her grass is seen with morning's dew,
Yet she rimes as so we few.
Hers is day of lightning bright,
Imagination is her night.
Yet we speak as she we do,
Nakita though does pen it true.
Her moon so clear,
Her sunset near.
That which so we hold dear,
Of this she writes bereft of fear.
Her bear immersed within her verse,
Penguin seen to sea traverse.
Yes indeed Nakita's breeze,
That which once we found with ease,
As hers just now it does us please.
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