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The Wind

Trees rustle their branches while they sit

Patiently among the forest,

The wind swoops past,

Brushing the lush green grass with their fingertips.

British flags flap their tassels,

Whilst clouds fumble about,

Shape shifting their pure white curls.

Hurricanes reach out pulling life into its billowing cape,

Whilst lighting battles its way to the top, shooting golden rays of light across the sky.

As darkness pulls its velvet cloak over the sky,

Stars blow kisses to the moon and heads off for bed.

By Saffron Edwards.

 

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