Monday, January 26, 2004
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Tapestry
It was a perfect April night.
We sat so far out on the edge,
Under stars so ancient,
They spoke olde english with
a flat Appalachian twang,
And whispered secrets of life eons old.
There was magic in the night,
A fleeting thing of awe.
We watched as children,
Noses pressed against the candy store window,
Not daring to believe the total beauty of it all.
We became a corner pattern in the tapestry
Of magic woven in the stars.
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Comments (8)
Put a picture where your book is. And please don't be afraid to visit my site, but be afraid to visit the Sarahs'.
I need not say about the poem, you know already I think that you are a great poet.
the Sarahs are demanding girl scout cookies. I know they were Americanized the summer they spent with me.
Cyn