When sad she brings the thunderAnd her tears, they bring the rainWhen ill she feeds a poisonTo us all to fell her painHer smiles they bring the sunshineAnd the laughter and the windAnd the birds they go on singingAnd the world is whole again. "Smile, sweet Sunday," Wednesday whispered in her ear. "The birds need your love so they can lift their wings.
-Alethea Kontis
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