Come. In the pantry is a jar of the finest, wild honey and suffiently cooled milk. Stay here for a while, before heading to the realm, where the sun maybe is, like a dandelion is in relation to the sun here, as it always strives to emulate.
The light of your sun eludes description, but are you smiling of time, and all it surrounds itself with, then come back sometimes and away the memory for weary, expectant hearts. I will bring you flowers and give you dinner with freshly dug potatoes and sun-ripened strawberries with cream. In time.
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