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Dec 2012
She wakes the flowers from their beds,
washing with dew their sleepy heads.
She paints their petals fresh and new,
with crimson reds and azure blue.
The bumble bees and butterflies,
from perfumed flowers soft arise.
Taking to wing the gentleness,
of all her love and tenderness.
For my friend Marian as promised
Written by
DieingEmbers
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