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Poetry: Nature

by Adam Rogers

Created on: April 22, 2008

Joys of Spring

Blue Sky above me.
Green grass below.
White clouds pass by me,
As I sit here alone.

The birds in the trees,
Sing songs of joy.
Flowers call to the bees,
Like a child for a toy.

A soft breeze cools me,
As the hot sun burns.
Here, place that's nice to be,
When stress starts to churn.

Learn more about this author, Adam Rogers.
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