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Gather

It is quiet now  
the sun moves up the ridge  
honey crisp scent of freedom  
hovers, engulfing all the air  
 
pangs of pleasure peal  
primrose bows her head  
yellow paints the morning  
the fields are all a glow
 
dew dressed up the hackles
glisten comes to call
enlighten paints the picture
leaves begin to fall
 
recall enters to the garden
tiny footfalls traced in awe
nothing goes unnoticed
gaze and gather in it all
Written by JusTim_
Published
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