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Emerald Hills
I see a Kumo in a taffeta dress, of grayish white
Soft as an angel’s wing light as the air we breathe
Water droplets perfumed in lavender scented mist
Falling gently on emerald hills, of sweet Kinsale
Morning sun, my Triathlon leap into aqua skies
I open my eyes and a lovely new dawn ascends
King of the hill and ruler of none I’m the withal
Of an Irish Orchid, and the purple butterwort
Cnoc na Croiche with eyes that seed the hills
Never ending world of dream and fertile hope
I see shapes of angel wings softly floating by
As my soul lingers on, departure time is nigh
February 17, 2013
Contest Entry:
Mystic Rose
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