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baby shower poem

the dawn was apple-green
where shall i find you
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
of sun nor stars
very well, you liberals
i gazed upon the glorious sky
here lies a most beautiful lady
gaily through the fields we danced
i am old and blind
earth travails
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
just now
why then, must we see?

 



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