a soft battle

August 23, 2010
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the wind blows in the morning breeze as a storm barely starts to emerge the grass swaying with the wind as if dancing to a sweet peaceful melody the birds dance free singing to the sounds of the creeping lights of dusk and the rumble of the thunder and the lighting is a must breathing in the storms first mist counting every lound crash waiting for the storm to miss taps on the window sounds to lound can"t hear the tea kettle sisel as the long battle slows down the big coward peeks of out of the clouds





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