6 (two little bare feet)

TWO LITTLE bare feet flit over the ground, and seem to embody that metaphor, 'Flowers are the footprints of summer.'

        They lightly impress on the dust the chronicle of their adventure, to be erased by a passing breeze.

Come, stray into my heart, you tender little feet, and leave the everlasting print of songs on my dreamland path.

 

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