Let the nightingale free again!

Somebody once said that springtime is the land of awakening; that the March winds are the morning yawn. I believe that’s true. There’s nothing cozier than waking up on a spring Sunday morning, playful rays filtering through the window and resting their selves on your face. Eyelashes fluttering like the fragile wings of butterflies. Then you open your eyes - green orbits lost in café au lait – to see the spring wonderland. How can you not feel the tingles when you pass your finger pads on the tip of the blades? How can you not hear
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Blog: Dorothy Hollins			Categoria: Monden si Stil de Viata » Moda
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