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The coming of spring
In the city of snow
Dressed in precious white
He sits on the stool of glow
Covered in fiery light
Thunder and lightning
Fire meets sound
The sight is frightening
Rumblings from the skies to the ground
He rises from his fiery site
He wipes the drops from his eyes
Turning to mist in the fiery night
Stormy downpour in the weepy skies
The time is right for the coming of spring
We bide the joy the spring will bring
Copyright ©
Raki Lyon
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