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pastor appreciation poem

long ago, in the young moonlight
where shall i find you
thoughts through my head
what spiteful chance steals unawares
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
in the dark and peace of my final bed
in mournful numbers
have we no shame?
there is no flock, however watched and tended
and with the humming bird
my true love from her pillow rose
from floor to ceiling
brief on a flying night
little park that i pass through

 



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