In a meadow bathed in golden light,
Symphony walks with steps so light.
Barefoot upon the carpet of green,
Turf Ticklers, as if in a dream.

Each blade of grass caresses her sole,
A dance with nature, a harmonious stroll.
Symphony, the girl with a name so sweet,
In this symphony of nature, her heart finds its beat.

Her toes embrace the earth below,
As if the grass, a soft, verdant pillow.
Whispers of the wind carry her along,
A serenade of nature, a melodious song.

Turf Ticklers, a playful term for her feet,
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