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Each One Has a Name A Flower, when it buds, beckons life Catches our eye - Asks us to guessThe size and the shapeThe shade and the tint. A Flower, when it blooms, grabs the spirit Calls to mind and allows us to savor How it has grown The perfume of its fragrance. All colors are on the Wind, Sharing and swaying amongst the earthen fields. Each one has a name. A Flower, when it fades, delivers its soul Spurs our insight, invites a final glimpse into The strength that was the life Beside the tender petals. A Flower, when it dies, allows its seed To scatter along the meadow. Inspires our hope, and then whispers "All shall live again." —Reneé Critcher 37 38 ...

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