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Let the wind blow soon or late
it doesn't really matter.
I'm dreaming of the falling leaves
as their vibrant colors scatter.
Let the wind blow while I listen
to leaves with movement and beat.
Candles are burning within my haven,
a fire crackles and warms my feet.
Let the wind blow through my heart
as I glow with pleasure, then shiver,
How precious is the fresh crisp air
that God promised He'd deliver.
A new season is upon us
with informal composure ahead.
There'll be pumpkins, popcorn and peanuts . . .
from God's earth we'll be wrapped and fed.
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