The Dandelion Princess dances through the meadow ins spring. She is short, green, clumsy. She moves awkwardly, still growing and still learning herself.
The Dandelion Princess stretches toward the summer sun, her golden crown resplendent in the shimmering heat. She dances alone, slapping those who get too close. She dances for herself.
Autumn paints the meadow in shades of orange, and the Dandelion Princes robes herself in white. She dances in graceful arcs, letting the wind lift her. This will be her final and greatest performance.
The Dandelion Princess lies curled under the winter snow, dreaming of her first dance.

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