November 10, 2012
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Little soon after screeching wind, and
heavy blow of rain.
Green regains new costumes,
old dusty running past the drain.
Cypress tall, having words of bye with clouds
(that wanders bit in sprain).
Chirping birds - fluttering bough to bough,
in sunny field of moisten golden grains.
Children in rejoice; splashing water at each other,
like horses prancing free of reins.
Here me sipping cup of tea, with
sound of whistling train.
To fold a poem to paper ship
that gona sail to poetry reign.
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