MOTHER COOKED

My mother cooked this morningFor the familyI saw her weave intricate delicaciesSeemingly out of the voidIn the beginning was hungerAt the end, sustenanceShe gazed upon her
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LITTLE JOYS

The soft gleam of the evening sunThe gentle shade of a branched palmThe tender swipe of the breeze past your face as you savour its scentThe intoxicating sound of well-composed
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