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Wading Birds | ||
Birds are wading in the creek. Tender tidbits now they seek. Feathers gleaming in the sun, Munching till the snack is done. Ibises and storks of white Are a rather pleasing sight. Hear them squawking as they preen, Happy that they have been seen. 'Neath the pines with pleasant shade They have really got it made. Think about them as they feed. God has met their every need. | ||
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