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SPARKLE PLENTY

One would think a lake, man made
as she is, stocked with carp to keep out the dark,
to be dead, but that's a sea bordering Jordan.
This one is live, reflective even, and at a certain
hour of morning, she's covered in diamonds,
a Sparkle Plenty of Dick Tracy days.  Remember 
Tracy?  Tess Trueheart?  Popular Comics? 
Well, Sparkle Plenty, it is, winter, summer, or fall, 
a particular bright spring in her a.m. step.
How comes the scintillation here, I ask?
and she says, It's all those stars, Dear. They
have no place to go at sunrise.  They sparkle
plenty here, where the white birds come

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  1. Date: 12/14/2011 2:43:00 PM

    I love your poem, I like the way you have arranged the words as to give us a beautiful visual of the lake. This is well written Nola, hugs,vie