Ah!
To ride the sunbeams
with April's scarlet rhodies,
stretching,
while the morning's mountain breeze, perfumed by violets and pansies,
tickles spring-pink faeries
'neath the yellow daffodils,
sets off tiny chimes of laughter
at the very center
of the land
where my heart resides,
where all boundaries cease,
where there's no time,
and where
green grasses,
red blooms, and
Carolina Blue skies prevail.
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