jonquils in the breeze
unabashed, but leaning still the light itself can enter in
kept within its inner core the creamy color's silken skin
doth boast and scream and dance with green it's lush enveloped by
the colors flow and crack and bleed the night time's cry released
cowered, covered, bleaken, bare full of wonder crisp like air
careless yet careful dreamlike depictions of golden ballerinas
Imaginative and free, surrounded by a twinkled spring
lost in lovely worlds apart, finished beauty...from the start
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