WHEN THE STORM GROWS WEARY...ITS ENERGY SPENT, THE TREES STILL DRIP. , .FROM HEAVEN'S SENT...BUT, NOW. IT HAS MOVED ON .TO...ANOTHER PLACE....WHERE THE FLOWERS AWAIT.... WASHING OF FACE. A DYING BREEZE SAYS GOOD BYE...THE TREES NOD THEIR HEADS...THANK YOU, AND GOOD BYE..
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