My Beloved
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Silver this chalice; placing it atop the mantel to stoke the fire which burns ~
In red the wine while night spreads its cloak, and frost becomes the glass
Amid this but another autumns repose; bare the branches dripping to grasp
Visions which etch her beauties name, about the windows pane; walking up the path...
Sage the vase where petals fall, in joyous shadows upon the wall
Pirouetting in silent streams of light; her knock, her voice, my hearts delight ~
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...“Gold The Chalice of, My Beloved” *
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