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A lamb in a field of violets
Trotting it’s way through.
Through the breeze,
Through the sunlight,
To find the perfect place to sleep.
Soft, soft fur, like angel hair,
Resting for the sake of nothing;
Bedding in a field of flowers
A cushion of heaven and heat.
A lamb drifts away,
While butterflies kiss her wool,
Calamity- Calamity -
All is still and Quiet for the creature.
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