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The Greeters
By the turquoise sea waters
lovely blossoms arise from their bulbs;
salute the mountains of their land
and wave at me, as breezes blow.
The azure sky o’er mountains gleams
full of cotton fluffed clouds;
bluebells ring songs to waves that
carry them to sailor’s lonely ears.
Would that mermaids had their legs,
these flowers they would pick and wear;
while singing out their siren songs.
to passing ships in early evening light.
Copyright ©
M. L. Kiser
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