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Peach clouds tumble over an autumn morning. Cool, almost impeccably sharp Yet Soft, light, feathery, cushioning the blow: A collision of ecstasy Frozen grass breathing again with
The uneven rocks give this hill character. Though storms may erode them they are still strong and beautiful. Etched into their being is lesson after lesson. Every curve tells a story. Ever changing. Ever growing.
If I could see over this farmed hills, I wouldn't have to be afraid of life's thrills. I am here for you brother-man Here to lend a simple hand.