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Andrew Burant

An Italian Sonnet: How spring fell into winter

In my childhood spring blew a vivacious wind;
Soaring onto all life with magnanimous form,
Emancipating the flowers from winter's rough storm.
It flew capriciously and landed upon my skin.
How immaculate the wind of spring blew
Possessing an efficacy which passed with grace.
My soul reverberated it, when all life grew.
Until spring passed; winter's wind stung my face.
My innocence then ventured into winter's cold night:
All sunlight has fallen with the snow,
The life from spring lost their glow.
I became lost fighting in winter's blight.
The years have past in winter's flow
Until i recognized my own inner sunlight.

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