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There she is, in her bed so warm.
In a haven of pure delight and peace.
She does not have to rise.
The morning plays its minutes and hours away.
In and out of dreams, she is.
Stirring in and out of slumber to the hum of the cental heating.
Outside is damp and threatens goose-bumps.
No work or play for this young lady.
Just sweet sleep; restful harmony.
A tired body in sync with nothing except the cocoon of her duvet.
Leaves of orange, yellow and deep green fall.
But that's in a world she has forgotten for now.
The air of her room tingles with silence so as not to wake her.
Dreams unfold and carry this sleeping beauty away.
But still she lays so warm and snug.