TITLE: Treasures of Darkness
By Yvonne Osborne
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Treasures of Darkness
What was left to feel I did not know,
Too hard to tell deaf ears, too hard to cry,
The rivers of my tears that would not flow,
Too hard to live and then too hard to die.
I saw a little flower in a wall,
Bright yellow like the sunshine out to play,
My presence there affecting not at all
Its sweet defenceless song of life that day.
It’s music seemed to me an echo heard,
Its fragile limbs a dance of golden grace,
As deep within my heart an echo stirred
As if this were some sweet remembered place.
I traced the satin petals deep and frail,
I could have stood a thousand years or one,
My tears entwined its glittering dewy trail,
Where childhood’s innocence had lately gone.
Then in a whispered breath a golden shower
Of droplets from its bright and gentle face,
Shed upon my palm an unseen power
Of riches from a deep and secret place.
I held them tight those golden flecks of flame,
No other treasure there could ever lie,
For here it was the Lord called out my name,
And sheltered in His wings, I shall not die.
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