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best friend poem

pharaoh, king of egypt's land
there were three in the meadow by the brook
day is done
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
mysterious night
in may
passing through huddled and ugly walls
all my love for my sweet
darkest, strangest mystery
i am the wind that wavers
gaily through the fields we danced
long ago, in the young moonlight
my mother twines me roses wet with dew

 



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