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halloween poem for kid

no prey am i of poor thoughts
mysterious night
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
green afternoon serene and bright
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
stern cold man
were it not for that singular smell
i love my hour of wind and light
beautiful, tragical faces
in all things not spoken of
roses and gold
daughter, thou art come to die
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness

 



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