Wake Up

September 13, 2012
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There is an aroma that awakens
Post-rain and misty air.
The birds are chirping away
At the sight of day.

The bark is rough to the touch
But is secretly ever so gentle.
Don’t trip over that bunny trotting
Or even the wood rotting.

Have a fresh berry glazed with dew,
The tangy, sweet taste numbs your tongue.
The drone of crickets dies down.
In the sky emerges a golden crown.

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