With the piety song of a pigeon
A damsel dancing in the dawn
as a floating canoe.

Flare of a flake by the sun-
the sentry of the day
exalt the dawn’s grace.

Never speck even a sparrow itself
or the rythm of wood-pecker’s pecking,
the spectrum of the day.

Pappus wrap the ramble moon
Stars- the kith of the night
envied upon the moment.

All in all a sweety pretty prime time.

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