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Still Seventeen At Seventy

sunny morning bus ride, her hair tousled happily by the mountain breeze, strands of it softly straying across his grateful face; ah, how beautiful she was, captivating his coy heart, but didn't have the words, words that had the courage to be heard and understood, but froze in fear and opted to wait for a better time, she was then just seventeen, and now well past seventy, still his time has not come!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things