The troubadour returns.
The sun shouts, loudly,
from beyond barricading trees:
a starburst proclamation of day.
Its voice declares
the blushes of dreams
from opening petals of sleepy flowers
and sings awakening
for the busyness of bees.
The touch paper
of morning
is lit
and the promise is
of
shades of colour
and refreshment of shade.
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