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‹ I never lost as much but twice • I’m nobody! Who are you? ›
October 27, 2007 in Life, Poems | No comments
My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise,
To such, if they should whisper Of morning and the moor, They bear no other errand, And I, no other prayer.
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Tags: eyes, morning
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