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Tags: love

The darkness dressed in sable
beneath a pale shadow of night
tallow of love drips from your lips
as the piccolo winds blow
touching you where my fingers go

In patterns of twilight rising
with eyes of laurel green
like a tiara crowning your pale
with a hoary veil disguising
in our amorous daze  

As the trees whisper the quiet
with a vesture of wintergreen
in seance with the dew
consummating with a kiss
and a carafe of red Grenache


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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