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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
When I was young, I thought you hung the
moon.
You cast your pleasures through my open heart
And lit my darkness. Then you moved away,
And my world lost its music. All I'd known
Drifted off like ashes, and the moon shone
Madly, as if there were no truth by day.
Now we've found each other, and the harsh
Moonlight of the time when you were gone
Has once again the ambiance of your art. |
