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Sedona Heaney Poem
A Saint's fate is in a sinner's hands.
A saint's decisions are to fix those of a sinner's.
Saints and sinners rely on each other;
Sinner's rely on the help of saint's to heal them,
Saint's rely on sinner's harm for something to fix.
Saints and sinners work hand in hand
Just as brother and sister.
They many never agree, nor will they ever support,
But when they are needed, each will be there.
Saints need their sinners.
Sinners need their saints.
In for whispers
Pour les débarrasser de la crainte.
Copyright © Sedona Heaney | Year Posted 2021
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Sedona Heaney Poem
The noble house rom the Scottish Lowlands
with the green, white, and blue bands.
The green for the salamander
resting on a bed of amber.
Although, factually, our monuments are ruins,
The kilt has a hint of blue in.
Having an appearance in the 12th century,
The history and descendants will never lose energy
Never behind as it appears on the crest
still stands today as it is above the rest.
Having no chief does not scare them,
for William Douglass was their original gem.
The nobleness of the first earl
Caused him to have a little girl
And those his children were considered "illegitimate",
They would have never allowed the clan to ascent.
Copyright © Sedona Heaney | Year Posted 2021
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Sedona Heaney Poem
Eden, come,
Charming as a spring day.
I could watch her dance for all my life.
Another
Flower is picked and pure.
I could stare at her for hours more.
A garden
Forever I could search
Until I find a lover to have.
When I do
She will be Eden, pure,
As tall as a tree, as loud as wind.
Copyright © Sedona Heaney | Year Posted 2021
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