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By: Norah Obuchon

Everything seems to get better 
As soon as there is warmer weather.
All winter I wait for spring to begin
For the soft sun to kiss my skin
For the gentle air to blow through my hair
And release with the breeze every worry and care.
For the promise of growth and grace
For mother nature's fond embrace.
For the bright noon light to pour into my soul
And wash away the dull and the cold.

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