white crocheted doilies hemmed by hands of June
cascading softly down from ashen eye
creating white and puffy winter dunes
and glistens just like diamonds through the sky,
it weaves its quilt along vast bowling green
and drapes like tassels of each limb of trees
I gaze upon thel monochrome vast scene;
as pigeons start to migrate flying free;
But when the winter ice begins to melt
and hands of fragrant flowers seep through snow,
no longer looking bleakish, frail and svelte,
each pretty garmet coloured bright now glow;
but spring will paint the world in vibrant hue
while sky and sea reflect in pastel blues.
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