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A Noble Lady

it is a sunny warm day on this day it is supposed to be cold January is normally not sunny and warm little birds take advantage of this pleasant day hopping around squabbling with each other I am inside watching through my window my eyes wander and focus upon an old woman sifting through garbage set out to be picked up as she leaves one garbage can and daintily walks to the next one somehow to me at least her graceful movement seem more . . . er . . . noble than a thousand preachers, priests, popes as they walk among their giving flocks on Sunday and all the high religious Holy days don’t understand why I am led to feel this way cannot explain it

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 2/8/2015 5:02:00 PM
Much to think about, Jerry. I enjoyed your poem, and agree with David Mead's comments below. Sandra
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Date: 2/1/2015 8:44:00 PM
A noble poem, very unique!
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Date: 1/28/2015 7:11:00 PM
- A great poem, Jerry - // Anne-Lise :)
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Date: 1/28/2015 5:45:00 PM
Good write, Jerry, a noble lady indeed and your concern for her. Blessing eve
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Date: 1/28/2015 4:13:00 PM
Humble, honest hearts . . . when viewed unmolested . . . are a holy site. Survival -- whether little birds or old ladies . . . is a life dance that calls deeply to us. Well done dear friend . . . keen is your sight.
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Date: 1/28/2015 4:03:00 PM
this is a very interesting little slice of life type of poem. I enjoyed seeing it today.
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