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REQUESTED
FROM THE HEAVENS
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Rain, upon my flowers sprinkle
And afterwards the Sun may twinkle
So they may grow again and bloom
Their agreeable fragrances fill my room
But, failing that, my brow will wrinkle
For lack of the lovely periwinkle
O Sun, please come into my room
I need you to dispel the gloom
And if perchance you'd rather not
My curtains with your beams be caught
Then I shall in the darkness loom
Adrift in hushed and silent brume
O Moon, with your silver, radiant light
Illuminate my world tonight
Your magic spell I then shall share
My thoughts will flights of fancy snare
And dreaming, there, I think I might
Find peace and feel the world is right©
1999 Mary Barnett |
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