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Stonepoem.com

April 4, 2005 - A poem about Words

Pause.

I want
to write
I really do.
But tonight
it doesn’t feel
quite right.

I want
to speak of her,
hair blown
like faerie breath,
brushing cusp
of summer air.

I want
to tell you -
the bees
were out today,
saluting
stretching
sun.

Sadly I must
leave this
for another
day.

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