caressing air of the lark

warmth as the take of sun,
rises even if the moons not done.
light knocks upon my windows closed shades.
penetrating through around in parades.
endless current of refreshing blue.
caress water leaves and their stems of shoe.
illuminated stand of marching reflecting sun.
caress eyes from blinding beauty among a transcending run.
nightingale running far hums an echoing tune.
caressing the sky as he rests on the moon.
hissing of whispers tumbling in the air.
caressed by the wind in the world they share.





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