Come My Beauty
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I held hands with death,
we were in a dark, black place;
it was so quiet . . .
Come my Beauty, quickly now,
lets leave this dark, lonely land!
I saw the dead trees,
the rows and rows of grey tombs;
and we stood at one . . .
Do not be afraid Beauty,
I offer eternity!
And I saw my name,
engraved in stone forever;
so I ran away . . .
Beauty stop, it is your time,
oh run- I will be waiting!
________________________
July 3, 2017
Poetry/Tanka/Come My Beauty
Copyright Protected, ID 07- 917-464-03
All Rights Reserved, 2017, Constance La France
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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