wildlife

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Icicles drip from the crisp leaves of century-old trees Snow piles as pure dust like white powdery rust The night whispers  The owls hoot into the dark
Icicles drip from the crisp leaves of century-old trees Snow piles as pure dust like white powdery rust The night whispers  The owls hoot into the dark
What color red is she, I say. Her fur so shining-smooth.   It bounces and rolls like waves of water, crashing as she runs through the night.   The ginger envelops the currant
Trade without consent  Forced from a forest of trees  Fear asylum of steel 
I roam through the most chaotic plains of the savanna I call high school But these Pridelands are nothing like the one we all grew up on For there is nothing cute or cuddly about this Circle of Life
O'er the mountain, Under gray sky,  An eagle calls, I hear his cry.    O'er the mountain,  Doves mourn and cry,  Sit and listen,  As they all sigh.   
Through the ocean I soar Bue water like air under my fins I open my maw to feast Letting baleen filter out the brine Year after year I skim the waters My size serving as my insurance
   The water is tepid, the sea cool bliss;
Inbetween the mountains I lay Waiting for a warm breeze. These days are rare now. I look around, I see beautiful, towering trees. The snow on the mountain tops shines.  
The Northern Atlantic Right Whale  was nearly driven to extinction by whalers who killed them  because they were the easiest whale to hunt.    In today's society,
In my community We have many manatee, We need to protect the sea cow And I can tell you how,
She stands in the middle looking on Surveying another queen's domain Careful of the feline eyes that follow her The royalty so briefly locked away   She is the ever-watchful caretaker
We are the pod of the sea. We glide through oceans effortlessly. We are approaching our destination,
  Oh beautiful Mother, with limbs branched outward, rustling the voice of your brother the wind.  
The natural world is disapearing, right before our eyes. Yet everyone is all for it, and it comes as no surprise. They'll bulldoze an entire forest, then turn the other cheek.
My Sunshine, my breath My Flutters, my walkings My Idols, my rage My Rippled water My Static dreams My Alive world My Language  
As the days start to grow, the dew dries faster in the morning Creation from every crack that has found an onset for life
‘Twas a cold and blistering Monday afternoon Seventy nine miles of pavement separated us from our destination The winter had came with full brute force Snow drifts alongside the road completely covered the property fences
The warmth, the beauty of a true masterpiece The flow of the breeze, giving the leaves temporary wings The rustle, as they wage waer to stay firmly on the tree In the end a loss, and now must lay on the ground
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