A wafting scent of fragrant flowers
The groanings of trucks throughout the hours,
A sweet whistling of birds of all kinds,
The crunching of footsteps weaving through pines.

A warbeling bird, a cawing crow
Where shall we go on the morrow?
The rustling of wind, whisking through trees,
The swaying of flowers, and darting honey bees.

The sweet air of spring has gone away!
The hot of summer is melting each day,
Autumn is here, winter is closeby
Why must cool weather draw nigh?

– Meggie COPYRIGHT.

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