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VintageCrayon

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Buds are not quite flowers

Breezes try to break the ice

Impatiently counting days, hours

Until the air is full of spiciness

My skin yearns for summers heat

How it's missed sun's warm embrace

My toes crave hot sand 'neath my feet

Cooled by waves that move with grace

And if summer could kindly forget the bees,

Leave behind the spiders too, and I'll be pleased.

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