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thanksgiving poem

the ships are lying in the bay
and how could you dream of meeting
beside a stricken field
full of tears
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
lo! 'tis a gala night
all my love for my sweet
i had over-prepared the event
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
this is the ship of pearl
why so sad my lovely one?

 



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