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The Meadow

  
In dreams we bloom  
like snowdrops in the sun    
carpets of white, amongst    
the whistling of the winds.    
But no Autumn comes    
no branches laid bare    
only leaves singing,    
green and rich,    
and teeming with warmth.    
    
Upon hills we loom,    
where valleys call    
to us. Booming, louder    
than ever before.    
Here within the heather    
the voice of the next,    
beckoning us to leave    
those phantoms behind,    
transcend these bonds.    
   
I can still smell you,    
intoxicating perfume.    
Awash with the beauty of    
these sights.    
Mixed with the lilac scent-    
your hand feels soft in mine.    
And as our spirits entwine    
I know only one thing,    
I will never let you go.
Written by TheFutureEmbrace
Published
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