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christmas poems

with the meek, brown eyes
among the mountains i wandered
the lightning flashed, and lifted
once this soft turf
she heard the children playing in the sun
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
with lips blood red and heart of stone
darkest, strangest mystery
i love my life, but not too well
a mist was driving down
why do
i love the old melodious lays
were it not for that singular smell
at dawn, he said

 



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