In stillness I laid, my sleepy time knows outside the shadow of my box, with a faintness of the cello as strings mellowed my prose. In fields of rising sun, and marigolds beneath the canopy of waning hours, poetically sound with words of love, in dreams of meadows and bows. With emerald crystals in your eyes upon your irises the light you show, as we kissed upon the moss, verses composed,
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