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That wretched pool of faith's undone,
I watched suspiciously while thee not won
unto a measure so involved
in may faring's complacent strum!
Oh then, my heart did beat
it held the drum
of thy bereaved mishandling, then stun
it were a time in life ~ eternal's shun!
That I did hold encounters to the Sun,
this is as love, my justice in thy run
then noble friend, what cell of truth is numb,
there is nought else but love, for thee among ~
. . . . .my archives of poems effigy, so sung!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2007
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