daydreams.

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I love summer mornings on my mom’s farm.

The air is hollow. We rock on the porch and feel the breeze. We talk and watch them run and play.

Beads of dew on the grass and my pulse slows.

Clouds puff up early and the sun melts them away.

Deer prance in the pasture and God finds His way into my daydreams.

 

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