The trees are heavy,
Blowing in the wind,
The ground changes,
A shade of pink.
***
The trees shed their spring coat,
And leave sprinkle their colour,
Over the paths and the roads,
Signalling the middle of spring.
***
Look around now,
And cherish the sight,
All the wonder,
Of Cherry Blossom.
Author: The Pesky Poet
Never assume that you are no good at what you love as if you love it enough you will make it better. Take that form a dyslexic who was told they would never be able to write with any quality.
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