a flower question’s not
why and seemingly without
pain when its petals fall
the tree’s leaves bristle
and dance seemingly with
joy, in the breeze
the sun rises giving delight
to the day for this i know
because birds sing
when the moon smiles at
night the oceans seem to rise
and clap, stars glitter in glee
when thy smile, upon my face
also appears, t’if i were but a
mirror to thine soul
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