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love poetry chat

i think it just splendid
i make my shroud, but no one knows
do you remember
i've won the race
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
long has the summer sunlight shone
moonlight deep and tender
her face is fair and smooth and fine
as a white candle
made up of loveliness alone
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
under the harvest moon


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