While the legs are my outward shoots
The head my root;
Such of an upturn, then
Why not glory the Sun
While the heart pumps the running blood
The veins are my capillary path;
Such of an iron will, then
Why not supple our loving heart
While the earth revolves smiling a tilt
The seasons sway with the moods;
Such of our colourful time
Why not cloak our bridal bloom
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