Shards of amber break through,
through the slits in the window blinds.
Orange roses in full bloom,outside
are freed from their frosty times.
Covers that drape the bed,too cold
are soon to be drenched in brightness.
The mourning sky,turns into a bride,
shining face,adorned in a golden glow.
The world is pregnant with joy,
For even the little bird on the wire
has lived to see this light.
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