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Tableau

Again I scare myself of the very thing. Moon was landing on lake for inward probe. One presaged silence, speaks, of the veracity of lovers to grass, where no drop drives a sun, the red bricks build a shade. Ragweed in a daisy field : Ambrosia, I will not taste you till the rainbow sits in the meadow. Round eyes keep the dawn hidden / under the lashes, sleep my saint for a while, door was waiting for a knock. SATISH VERMA

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 10/11/2009 10:53:00 PM
Lovely poem, Verma. I especially enjoyed the third stanza. Hugs, Donna
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things