She hangs on that tree with pride
Like she knows who she is
She gently dances from side to side
To the rhythms of a wind unknown
Her beauty hidden in the leaves that shelter her from the harsh sun
Her skin smooth and tender to the touch
Like melted butter on ice

A true definition of virtue and spirit
I love the thoughts that flow from the fountain of her mind
And when I ask her to be mine,
She tells me –
I would love to be yours except
The farm owner picked me first
And as she is carried away, all I can do is wonder
What could have been…?
So I walk away telling my self
At least she knows how beautiful she is


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