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About This Poem
Love Garden
Dripping from red rose's lips
To black-eyed susan's amber petals,
The dew paused there -- a thorn to kiss,
And carefully slipped through stings of nettle.
Down to bloom of baby's breath
And on a string of bleeding hearts,
In tandem dripped in dance of death,
Though pink impatiens softly caught.
March 19, 2013
For Sandy's Garden Contest
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