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I lay me down in flowers
The harbingers of spring.
That despite the coming frost
Blossom in unaffected modesty.
They are the spitting image of their past.
The true descendants of grace.
Even though their roots are thin
I can trace them back to Eve’s mother.
In fragile spring beauty they swear
They wouldn’t miss this day for the world.
When hillsides blush in tenderness
And valleys rise in regal style.
I lay me down in flowers
To feel the blood root petal.
My heart so full of joy it cannot stand
To think how quickly this will pass.

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Listen to Becca reading the poem by clicking here.