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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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