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■ The oak
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It's magical this dust
that she blows upon the wind to catch the elements, humbles them To that all powerful form of herself. I see her plainly in my mind That child like radiance that floods me whole draws deep upon her soul, There to drink my fill of poetic beauty. It's a clear reverence that fills the gaps holds and restrains the heavens hem to the truth, that vitality that here she bestows Upon this my world...My dreams. Like an uncanny feeling she seem to know where by root and field I grow As if all my life has been a journey to This Tinkerbell vision, this winged promise that's you. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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