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Youth Tendered

14 Sep

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So she was, in the winter of ’69,
faire haired girl, lips of mulled wine,
her eyes of emerald green, so bold,
alight her gaze, as dreams foretold;
a stolen moment, too brief to last,
she captured well, and held on fast;
a kiss, our virgin youth would know,
we shared our first, a seed to grow;
we held a love as was never met,
exploring skies, unfathomed yet;
hers, perhaps, ’twas youthful bade,
but mine, a time profoundly staid;
with seasons past, that winter spent,
I still can taste what that kiss meant,
recalling her sweet lips, I sadly sigh
that e’er came spring, our last goodbye.

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Posted by on September 14, 2015 in My Poetry

 

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