Tallow rays


The misty morn peels,

Revealing sentinels of wintery fields.

Tallow rays, like a sweet mead glaze

Healing: a warming haze.

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Treading through the meadow, footsteps as light as a fae,

Amazingly, brightening the day,

A pretty, pixie flower called sweet violet

Appears alone, shielded by the sleeping hedgerow

And wrapped with ivy and bay.

 

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