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Poetry - This Morning in my Treehouse

this morning
in my treehouse
as I open my eyes
I turn my head and look out my window

under my sheets

the gentle morning light makes me

I feel I am in a jungle

warming the liana vines

painting cascades of shades

brown yellow green

brown yellow green

framing beauty

the breeze

kisses my shoulders

like a gentle caress

of a caring lover

describing beauty

is so cliche

words will never fulfill

better to be silent

and golden

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