Poem.

.

                              DANCE  OF  THE  BIRDS


    The   morning  sky is painted blue,

And tiny wings come rushing through.

They sing a song both bright and sweet,

A melody the heart can meet.


They circle high, they dip, they glide,

Like laughter carried far and wide.

The world feels light, the day feels new,

As birds bring joy in skies they flew.


 

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