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Parasols and Umbrellas

Sol’s long arms pull
and all cry for her blessing.
So every green blade dances to the lull
of the mystical tune of a Pied Piper’s singing.
Alas, the frail garden petals dissolved;
They all are jaundiced from summer’s curse.
But in blows the rain with a roll, and he said
“Foolish flowers, enjoy the springtime, for it races like a horse."

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