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 The Life Of A Fallin Rose

  As I sit here and wait for the sunset, looking across the pond at fishers setting their bait. Truest beauty my eyes behold. Ripples through the water, the winds blowing cold.
Vast colors of the season being told, Amber, red and gold. Here there is no dread or fear ; only peace and tranquility wash over me here. A private spot to ease my mind,
nothing posh or extravagant you'll find. Alone with my thoughts I can finally unwind.
    Geese swimming so elegant and graceful, a stunning sight to unfold. I love this place. Ducks fluttering wings ,making their case , odd wondrous musings they sing. 
The Young bring the old as they draw near. Older ones watchfully peer at me, as I'm taking it all in. To them I seem quite confusing sitting here. 
   Feeling so patient and pleased, smiling once more as leaves fall eased to the wooded shore. I'm reminded once again , it really doesn't matter where I've been. Nothing
can seal my fate as long as there are places like this for me to relate. My zeal for life places like this restore , I'll  contuine on the journy once more.

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