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Beds of daffodils and roses
blowing sweet perfume to the noses
Buttercups and bluebells
along in the lingering smell
Violets, daises, and tulips
in colors so fluid
Lavenders, lilacs, and lilies
brings the heel of Achilles
to the strongest of all
And, begins the call
A whisper so soft
you believe words to be false
Nothing more than the wind
as you hear the words again
You wade through the meadows
of soft sweet petals
drawing nearer, and nearer
hearing words clearer, and clearer
“Don’t come to me
for I’m nothing to be”
It’s more psychedelic than zinnia
and more refined than azalea
Who could resist
the beauty of this
soft, sweet words
never before heard
Who’d clearly cry
only to hide
You follow more
to what you adore
On a trail of pretty things
to what pretty sings
“Don’t come to me
for I’m nothing to be”
You keep down the way
of primrose and sage
wanting joyful jolly
amongst the holly
You get closer
as you go over lucky clovers
ready to pick the thyme
with whom entrances your mind
You come to see
a gathering of leaves
Suddenly, a form appears
of not what’s held dear
Flowery beauty blows away in a gust
and no longer shows what you lust
There’s a darkness so stark
it startles your heart
The beautiful marigold
is lifeless and cold
In the flower bed
all the flowers are dead
You wince at the rot
In the wind, forget me not

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Words of Nefie

Let us make a hopeless place hopeful.