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My Dearest Dear

She came . . . quietly, secretly to my lonely bed last night and from a hidden pocket in her robe she took a ring, a circle forged of gold, and whilst I blushed a deep rose-red she placed it on my finger, and whilst I wept she pressed my trembling hand upon her heart and whispered in my ear, “My love, my dearest dear, weep not, for you and I are One. Tom McFerran.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Shattered Sighs