Orare Now
lest i be nearer to my death
i could love you no less
as my wild eyes dance
gazing under
the swaying willows
apon my pillows
i would beckon
tommorrow tommorrow
only within the mere sorrows
that i shall wander amids
heaven's oracle mist
why in my presence now
Copyright © Yolanda Nicholsen | Year Posted 2011
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