I cannot make apoem,I am sorry,
This is what you should not say.
Just open your window,
And peep out to hear,
The wind is singing lullaby,
to trees and creepers alike
All of whom have gone to sleep,
But look at the little rebel bud,
who bashfully reveals her beautful face,
But turns on one side while facing the wind.
“No, my dear child,don’t be afraid,”
says the wind to the little bud,
“you have to bloom,and spread the scent
to all including the bees,
So that you can bloom,and transform yourself in a fruit

and,
and transform
And then transform yourself in a fruit

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