Harvest
Every day so many thoughts
I put most down in words
Thoughts at times so whimsical
Of lilacs and bluebirds
A certain smile, the catalyst
Resulting in these odes
Meant for you to maybe read,
Or not, I wouldn't know
But still I need to plant these seeds
For poems are my crop
I always say this one's the last
But I can't seem to stop
So if you seek a new one
But notice that there's none
Check again another day
I doubt the harvest's done
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