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Warm summer mornings

Cool soil between my fingers as I dig,

Plunging my trowel in the earth moistened by dew

Seedlings reaching for the sunshine

Such pleasure

A sense of peace descends

As I pluck the invaders, those unwelcome plants

I bask in the warmth of the sun

Cool days of autumn are in the distance when I will reap what I have sown.

by Myrna Matheson
Words In Motion 2014