Poetry
All is still, evening has come.
The wind whispers gently through the trees.
Speaking softly,
Talking to a friend
In that stillness comes a stirring.
Quietly, slowly, reaching up from the ground,
Seeking the stars
Bidding them welcome
Slowly, he creeps higher
Bringing light in his path.
Warming the trees
With his smile.
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This is an simply bruetiful peace absolutely loved it''
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