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Golden Glow

When I was coal you mined my soul 
and treasure there you found: 
a heart, stone cold, but solid gold, 
was buried underground. 

So long I hoped and blindly groped 
for rescue by the brave; 
from skulking fears and sour tears 
that haunted my dark cave. 

The sifters left my heart bereft 
of airy thoughts and dreams; 
in all their toil, neglected soil, 
but splashed in barren streams. 

The dirtied face of my disgrace 
you polished with your sleeve; 
your zeal above mere heartfelt love 
in silken arms we'll weave. 

My luster bright in dawning light 
forever shall I owe, 
to she who dug beneath my shrug 
and found the golden glow.

Copyright © Ron VanHooser

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