Through The Glass_

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The sun is out on what must be the third nicest day of the year so far, and yet I am inside.

Also, the least depressing poem I've put on here. Yay!

Submitted: April 28, 2012

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Submitted: April 28, 2012

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Fluttering wings of a golden hen

Under an array of young flowers

Meet the lambs with joy of life

That play and frolic between showers

The purest love of common awakening

In the longest awaited of seasons

Birds sing as they depart the bushes

Creating scents to bring bees in

Behind thickened nails

And soft rubber rails

My view through the glass

Of sunlight and grass


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