Our senses are an atlas,
that awesome cordon breathless,
an early morning dream,
first ray of light or beam,
elated crowds who swarm,
intent on oozing charm,
some ardent quote as text,
glum thorny issues vexed,
oh magic spell what’s next,
sly inkling of pretext,
gold coin beneath a fountain spew,
immune to dark grey mountain clue,
to sealed urban sprawl archive,
red hydrant on the lawn connive,
with squirting hose’s power,
passerby has random shower,
rippled dew an April stamp,
primer for the urban ramp,
molten lustre highway blazed,
symmetry one found amazed
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