All gaily the sparrows on the tall tree high
train not to sing their choruses in the morn
An ensemble which only surges ahead by day
not knowing where their prey may be
will harvest where they have not tilled
Like flower lilies bereft of cozy costumes
pretty appears when always in bloom
In splendor, magnificence and grandeur
be wields the eye leaving it in esthetic glory
with buds bitter to taste, sweeter when it flowers
Dedicated to TA Deborah
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