The fourth of June.




China modestly cried for love,
they shamelessly shot that dove,
in cold blood.

An army waited in the rain in 1944,
to open the door to a united free Europe,
all return to the loft,
a gentle sunny croft.

I greeted an onion grower,
"Salam alaikum" in my best Brummy,
he wished me peace and blessings as well,
as if the world had became a garden
and for one instant we were brothers.

The American president offered a beautiful stand of iris,
to those that face east to pray,
the sun is out this day,
strawberries are getting ready for the table.

 

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