Magical Trail

Fig, apple or rose trees,

All dancing around,

In the ethereal breeze,

On the magical ground,

Listen to their chimes,

Do you know what it is?

All singing  rhymes,

Butterflies, birds and poppies,

In the enchanted woods, alone,

I lost myself continuously,

Along the way, the statue made of stone,

Showed me the secret path to beauty.

By: Claire, Aged 47, Wicklow

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