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Make Haste
Bland and empty, a worry breeds
Hides from sight the finest seeds
Only hope provides a way
Keeps the people stable day by day
Passions wonder making clear
A season for another try
Pass the willing way, ignore the passive stares
None attempt to ponder, consumed by other cares
May what glory desires to rise begin
Without an anchor holding bay
The feet make hast toward goals not comprehended
Until you let it go again, a final work before a final day
Copyright ©
Fred Jagenberg
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