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Loves
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Spring
Spring is
taking your new wicker basket,
ambling through a thicket of trees
and reaching a grove of orchards
illuminated by patches of sunlight.
Spring is
shedding off your winter’s coat
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Mon amour pour ma poupée poupée
Her cream white color has started to fade,
Even for gold, she is something I wouldn’t trade.
Stitches burned away by the fire known as love,