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Bottled Joy
The sounds of children laughing,
The fresh smell after rain,
The new buds in the Springtime,
The clatter of a train,
The buzzing of the bees
As they pollinate the flowers,
The ticking of the clock
As it counts away the hours,
The taste of Summer berries,
The smell of fresh-baked bread,
The memories of days gone by,
The pillows on my bed.
So many joys I'd bottle up
And keep them close to hand
To open when I'm feeling blue -
Oh! Wouldn't that be grand?
poem
by
Dawn Ferrett
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