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The Great Garden

id

In the heart of The Great Garden, under the emerald umbrella
Of towering oaks and canary willow trees,
Lies an annual event of small yet momentous measure:
The Great Bug Race, whispered about in the hush-hush of the leaves.

In the kingdom of the clover, where sunflowers touch the sky
And roses paint a landscape of dappled hues,
The bugs are all astir, each with hopeful eyes
Green helmet beetles and azure butterfly crews.

There’s daring Dale the dragonfly, swift as the morning breeze,
And clever Clara, a caterpillar of many stripes.
Barney, the bumblebee droning melodies, and beneath peony trees,
Rests Larry, the lazy ladybug, boasting of countless types.

Each year Blister, the tiny beetle, watches with tiny sighs,
His wings to weak, his feet too meek, to partake in the grand stakes.
His heart beats fast, buried in the vastness of ferns and flies,
Beneath the canopy of the Great Garden, where dreams awake.

The race begins, a flurry of gossamer wings and shiny shells,
Beneath the carnivorous carnations and the ticklish tulips’ sneeze.
The bugs all dash with warrior’s zeal, their faces telling tales,
While Blister watches in awe and wonder under the cool beech trees.

Driven by a blooming desire, alive in his little heart,
Blister joins the race, steps echoing on the daisy path.
With herculean effort, in this theatre of art,
He runs as fast as his six while the crowd unleashes its laugh.

Through the thorny thistles, over mountains of mulch,
Blister perseveres, with dreamlight in his eyes.
Despite the nectarine day’s scorch, the hurdles and the gulch,
He surprises all and finishes the race, overcoming the size.

The Great Garden erupts in cheers for the underdog’s story,
His triumph against odds, under the sun’s golden dominion.
Blister basks in the glory – a beacon of tenacity, victorious and hoary,
Teaching all, in this lush Eden, the power of tiny ambition.

So night falls on The Great Garden, moonbeams kissing the dew,
Carrying whispers of Blister’s brave exploit, shining ever strong.
Each petal, each leaf, each creature old and new,
Humming the paean of perseverance, where even the smallest belong.

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