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Muse: Morning in the rain season
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The Winds Tale: A call of the Hills
The call of the hills… On a night dark as pitch We stay listening to the swooshing trees And the strange call up the hills… A tornado of wind come surfing down Pushing the brushes and woods apart Sending both man, child and pets scrambling Tall and strong wild palms bend double Threatening to crush…
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Musing: Cold Mornings
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Midnight Thought
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The Wind
There’s coldness everywhere Up the forested hills, the wind surge Throwing up fallen tree leaves In a self heart gladdening sweep Down the hill, the hamlet wakes Pulling cardigans and all manner of rags To keep Warmth from fleeing The noises outside, of the busy wind Sweeping the village square And all the corners of…