"The lines have fallen
for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a
beautiful inheritance."
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
little blips of thought
A mother's song- a lullaby a softly sighing butterfly that steels away a baby's cry. ---
Zinging quietly past the zinnias the humming bird speeds on like lightning or the blink of an eye it hurries to drink the nectar of its chosen flower. ---
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