Poetry

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O what words hath come to mind
but which fail to describe thy beauty
I sweareth to thee my love, hand set on heart
for the words of all poets hath n'er expressed
either true love, nor a passionate kiss which I've known.
Come and press thy sweet ear to my chest
for if ever still heart is inspired to speak,
'tis the words that my lips can n'er repeat.

- Written for my wife, Barbie, in the Winter of 2001

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