Gild lilies if you must. Fit filigree
‘round stem or stamen; re-saturate the sky. Pretend your dew be diamonds, your webs a finer silk. Yet Spring — her breeze, her birds and brooks — still breathes this quiet wisdom: “What is, is good enough.”
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For more information on the Etheree, a syllabic poem that, in its basic form, contains ten lines and a total of fifty-five syllables, please click here.