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Christmas
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The Snowflake
Softly softly falling, sat upon the breeze
A cushion suspended, a softly softly tease
A masquerade invisible feather light
Tossed upon the timbale of white
A myriad so bright
Sun shine seems like night
Undulating a downward fall
So sweet a life so small
Curled tight and safe
Unfolding stretching tall
Slowly slowly, tempted by fate
The golden hue of shimmering gold
Dancing, laid upon my hand and was gone
ŠKath Thomson