Come, My Whisper
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I can be found down a long winding road,
Brush away the leaves and you will see my name;
Oh yes, this poet from whose pen words flowed.
In life, my poetry never had great fame,
In death, I am a wispy ghost that haunts his days;
Brush away the leaves and you will see- my name.
Oh, on my grave, weeping, flowers he lays,
He has searched the world for me with longing love;
In death- I am a wispy ghost that haunts his days.
Come, my whisper gentle as a mourning dove,
You have travelled far, dear one, let me hold your hand;
He has searched the world for me- with longing love.
My poetry book, he found one day in a distant land,
And he fell in love with this girl from another time;
You have travelled far dear one, let me hold your hand.
And then, a dagger to his heart and at last he is mine
I can be found down a long winding road;
And he fell in love with this girl from another time,
Oh yes, this poet from whose pen words flowed
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March 12, 2016
Poetry/Terzanelle/Come, My Whisper
Copyright Protected, ID 16-767-522-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Where Will They Find Me
sponsor, Marugu Mo
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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