Face

Words hold me in their thrall

a charm that cannot pall,

what lives is love and grace

wisdom etched on your face.

I write from distant lands

dreaming fluttering hands,

while you feast from life’s plate

my soul shall not abate.

These lines reveal a song

that cancel every wrong,

how dear you are to me

I spell so you can see.

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Filed under Poetry, Thoughts

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