Words Without Shame
Come, my muse, to that mystical realm
And shower me with imagination at the helm,
Let’s run again along green meadows fair
Floating, flirting like fairy wings of exalted air
If it just be for a sweep time, or only some hours,
Yet for a long while my words, they will flower
To weave threads on loose pages, now like weeds
Once bathed in fountains of blooming seeds,
Then without care, a burst of moonlight shall claim
A birthing of free spirit, hands daring without shame
©
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Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2012
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