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What magic is there in the spotless pin bird sky
Dreams sun in soft glow pause in whispered cry
Amid the cooing white doves bathing the aural calm
Lament the lengthening shadows of winters yet to come!
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You too they don’t miss is when the winter speaks its heart For times will ever roll in amid the illusion that they depart the poem expands as the parachutes and the rest depends upon the readers..
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8/9/2025 2:31:43 PM # 1.0.0
Another lovely piece. Thank you.