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christian poetry

the arches of the red bridge
white foam flower, red flame flower
i do not pray for peace
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
the ships are lying in the bay
i never knew the earth had so much gold
often i think of the beautiful town
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
lo! 'tis a gala night
brief on a flying night
the meadow was creeping

 



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