SEASONAL CYCLES

Winter’s withering winds

rustle through berry’s blossom

in the gentle dawn, falling

on these days of the daffodil.

I walk by wild water

in a world wild of will.

Bloom beneath spring

summer; a blanket beautiful,

seasons are cycles,

sweet that song from seed to stone.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly influenced by the lunchtime magnetic poetry oracle

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