Dedicate to
Herewith bequaths and ode to the transient hour; to the fire of spring

devouring the bud to evolve into the flower; to fables agreed upon

considered as history; to summer fading as winter gains its victory. As the

splendours of summer subside, the winds after storms don't abide. As night

comes the day will hide; waves along the shore are pushed aside.
by Hercolena Oliver June 16, 2010

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