Where the Morning Knows My Name
Some mornings bloom in softened light,With petals spun in pink and white,And park paths hum a quiet tune,Beneath the gaze of waking moon. The breeze is warm, the grasses sway,As springtime gently finds its way—And when I turn a corner bend,Two souls appear, like sudden friends. Bombon, tall, in brindled coat,Moves with grace and silence […]
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