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Bluebells

Gliding through the fog,

She comes to the clearing,

Bluebells, Bluebells everywhere,

Violets and bluebells,

You can almost hear them ringing,

Ding-a-ling, Ding-a-ling,

The breeze whistles through,

The newly sprouting trees and seedlings,

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Written by

cierra-ann-merryman

American

Published: Sep 25, 2012
LinesWords: 833

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