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Zephyr Sleaze
A zephyr breeze, like a feather so gentle and light,
caresses my face on this summer's night.
Always wanting to play, it dances and sings,
fluttering my leaves, rustling my things.
It tickles my skin with its soft touch,
in ways it knows I love so much.
This zephyr sleaze wants to carry me away,
tempting me with fragrant flowers in bouquet.
But I take far too long to respond
to its wants and pleas to belong.
With a tut tut, the wily wisp moves along
turns its back, shrugs, and is gone.
Copyright ©
John Anderson
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