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Searching Bluebell Wood

In springs frost the dance begins again Four four time and fluttering wings rapid beat and anxious breath Here in a cold grey mornings rage a damp sun failed to rise it rains in the drip of quietness while I exhale on life's stage All around is strewn with a sparkling light unwelcome in their private realm I find the road and walk back home

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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