lovel

In quiet times I sit,
thinking often bit by bit.
The quiet I love,
wind blowing above.

The quiet starts to rumble and grow,
expressed words, slow.
Within, the truth prevail,
unraveling the moonlit veil.

The sun,
warming the snow,
it has just begun.
A quid pro quo,
is in fact the obvious.

A L for a L,
An O for an O,
A V for a V,
An E for an E,
L comes a long way back.

Lovel, quoth it.

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