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For some the years turn out to be a blessin
In life and love the choices of the heart
Find their way to lushly colored meadows
Touched at night by fantasies of stars.
Yearnings sway like dancers in the wind.
You have learned the music of caressing,
Each taking passionately the other's part.
All the silent beauty of your shadows
Reapperars as song that nothing jars,
Sheer happiness unfolding without end.
Nicholas Gordon |
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