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Love Is . . .
The scents of spring flowers, splayed out through the fields, The stark white on blue, as puff clouds cross the skies, The sweet sounds of birds, singing songs of their love, Compare not to the beauty you hold in your eyes.
A heart that just beats may just well stand still, A soul without love has but turmoil and strife A body without passion sits dead and ice cold But to these things in me, all you are, you breathe life.
