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the word whisperer

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Pines

Tall damsels dressed in green splendor
Their arms and skirts swaying
To the music of the wind

Swallows circle o’er the beauties
And they sigh... fragrant tears
Flow…crystallize…soft jewels…

Their skirt hems sweep over the rug
Whispering to the earth
Verses sent from the white clouds

The sweet perfume drifts through the air
To white camellias
And hovers over the pond

The sunset tints the green with red
Dewdrops glisten softly
The pine grove in mid-April

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