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Beauty is in the eye of its beholder
To some it’s a warm summer breeze upon bare shoulders
To others two birds who sing
Of spring
On the wing
The glow of the bud that up rises the snow
To start its very first spring show
The oranges, reds, browns and golds
That tell us things are about to get cold
Beauty is in the eye that beholds
All of natures marvelous stories untold
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