The wind motivated towards the little stone church towards the bench I keep fancying. 

The skies reward the attentive, the sensitive. 

My little glowing friend in the deep yonder distance, you are shapely and voluptuous with curves of cirrocumulus red, purple, and golden orange. 

Like a push button signal, you send little claps of thunder. Striking vicious somewhere assuredly with a mighty boom, to me from this distance you are waving hello. So I wave back, and we exchange gleeful greetings many times over. Do you come here often? 


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