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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
You are the rose about to bloom,
The color soon to wake,
The perfume set to scent the breeze,
The bud about to break.
You stand upon the lip of time
Alight with what will be,
And see yourself out to the sky
Across the open sea.
We see you vertically, a gift
Too beautiful to plumb,
And treasure all the years you were
And all the years to come. |
