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Butterflies | ||
Butterflies of many hues Wander through the forest green. They've no need for clothes or shoes, Yet they're pretty when they're seen. They waft slowly into view, Passing near our sweaty heads, Swimming in a sky of blue, Till they find their proper beds. They inspire us to create And to wear a happy smile. We have much to celebrate! God will guide us through each trial. | ||
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