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pastor appreciation poem

up from the meadows rich with corn
there are gains for all our losses
rocked in the cradle of the deep
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
the arches of the red bridge
this ancient silver bowl of mine
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
listen
i love the old melodious lays
white foam flower, red flame flower
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
braided and woven
will you glimmer on the sea?

 



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