this is not the dew impearled
this is my tear
this is my voiceless
damask plea
rooted under the darkening sky
when the wind blows through
while you are sleeping
when the wind blows through
and I can't sustain this
roseness
will you remember
my rose ghost
poem recited while
ou are gliding off
to sleep;
it was my tear and not
the dew impearled
mary angela douglas 20 october 2007
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