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Marina Putica Oct 2016
A little Robin ***** his jubilant head,
The first glimpse of Autumn i see ahead.
The crisp, biting air
Lifts my rosy cheeks and dares,
To show me the wonders of these crimson Dreams.
I dance among the leaves, and glide through Conkers fallen from their Mother tree.
The sun rises early until darkness descends,
The bunny rabbit burrows her head and the Squirrel scurries for warmth.
Oh what a joy to welcome the most enchanting Season of all.

— The End —