A poem.

Merci The beans were
baked down by the lake.
The sour cream's supreme.
The berries took
three ferries to visit
frames in New Orleans.
The note you
wrote came from
the heart. The
peonies, right from
the start, acted
to fully please.
It's not the
gifts which gave me
a lift, my friend that's
no surprise.
But rather the
giving that has
opened up my eyes.
– Marlyeen Stettner

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