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Campus@360 : Weaving Between The Lines
Mishmi
Poetry
I longed for spring,through winter's chill
When frozen winds were sharp and still
I dreamed of flowers, skies of blue,
And mornings bright with drops of dew
The trees grew green, the blossoms grew
And gentle breeze softly blew
I heard a song so soft and clear
A little bird was drawing near
I smiled and listened in the park
With my heart close, ear to the lark
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