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A mist, rolling off the meadow

Carries a fragrance meant to please

Each droplet of water caresses

Every inch of the forest trees

Blanketing the russet leaves

Wrapping them in sweet embrace

The fog, though, soon will vanish

And the waking sun will grace

The colors, and beauty of nature

Once hidden in a veil of mist

Now drenched in dew, delighted

Aroused, by morning’s first kiss


August Writing Prompt – The fragrant fog – Day 1/31

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