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Lorraine is sovereign of her willing heart.
Of her pain she weaves a tapestry of flowers,
Revealing alike her love and joy and grace.
Remembrances of hopes she long had grieved
Are now among the gifts she has received,
Inseparable from those she would embrace.
No way can she divide her sea of hours:
Each breath sustains a whole and not a part.
All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems permission to use
provided by the author. |