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Violet Smith lived in Center Kingdom. Her neighbors were Jack and Jill; Like orange sun, of a pink morning, when it's just peeking over blue hills. With Mother and Father and sister, Ava, Violet enjoyed life on Sage farm; Just as lilac breezes, from out of the south, only rove to keep you warm. Theirs was a land that still believed in magic, like the red, butterfly stroll; Or like fall trees, being crowned in colors, as summer's story grows old. Fragrant festival days came, when fashionable, family friends, gathered, On lush green grass, of varied flowers, with twinkly, sunbeams scattered. Flowers of spiciness drooped, fainting, in the fervent grip of the hot spell; As forever family came face to face, under fluffy clouds, we know so well. Violet lived in the house of ephemeral moods, changing like plum weather; In dark green places, awash in gold, where, like families, all sing together. Serenades stirred lofty treetops, on a street of stealthy shadows, stirring; And scarlet dragonflies, hovering in sunshine, the sparkling wings whirring. Normalcy never wore a new name, whenever old neighbors came to visit. Soon a noon sun, slowed life a bit, after it had arrived at its golden limit. 'Heirloom iris' was passed down with love, its scent creating new smiles; While glimpses of 'angel wings' sent folks to heaven, despite many miles! 'Thumb cacti' were all thumbs, during 'Indian summer' blooms' last hurrah; When violas painted towns with 'brushstrokes,' along the Rue St. Francois. Since Violet loved to grow things, as a gift, she was given a little nut tree; Which she took excellent care of! She'd soon make pies and extra money. But two harvest times gave only disappointment, evinced by bare branches. Then a silver nutmeg and a golden pear grew solely, against dawn's canvas! What strange fruit this was, and worth a fortune! They were unusually big. The nut tree's fame grew! The King of Spain's daughter came, in a fancy rig. She said that she'd never seen a such a pretty, or a more whimsical sight; And that she likely wouldn't again. Like a lovely rainbow, bowing in delight! Next year, the tree was replete with nuts, but the family was already rich! Violet said hers was the best gift ever, like maroon dusk, of sunset orange. 'I had a little nut tree, Nothing would it bear But a silver nutmeg And a golden pear. The King of Spain's daughter Came to visit me All for the sake Of my little nut tree!'
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