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Wandering Mind

Golden spades of lemonades Grasp the citrus garden. The blues of berries pardon, And apples cave my heart in. Trees spines of vines Caress my soul of passion. A splash of fine wines Perish an everlasting fashion. Crispy dew, the wind blew, Fork my mind, so confined.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Shattered Sighs