nippy gust of wind
toying with crisp autumn leaves
vortex of a squall
.
whoa wit that wind spring
whilst the flower front mine blooms
shrink not the puff's rose
.
yet she still garments
with the soft white cotton shirt
exposing mine muse
Your typical Texan farmer
Would never attempt to harm her
But it is so cold
And they are so old
They need to feel her handwarmer
. our lab is snoring
in front of the fire
a wet log sizzles
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