The Silent Serenade
The freshness of all that is new – it is Spring!
Trade winds borne at sea stir senses,
Sounds so distant are not far away,
Play on, I shall listen.
I hear not bells but haunting chimes,
A rush of excitement as a village parade,
Silent at times, these mystical rhymes,
They sing my sweet serenade.
Tinyindiewhimsy 
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