SPARKLED-HER-EYES-AND-THEY-
SPOKE-A-LOT
Silent becomes a waterfall
to those who live closeby.
Maybe it's sparkle turns dull
to the always seeing eye.
But she whose hair cascaded,
her silence spoke out to me.
The memory sure has not faded
as to her eye-sparkling beauty.
IT'S-THE-GHOSTLY-GALLEON-MINE
Although my spirit
a sailor be,
is my body-ship
whipped
against the rocks of harsh-reality,
and tipped
my spirit with it.
YES-A-SNOWY-WHITE-SPRINGIME-
GATHER-DO-I
Like snowdrop-flowers,
with their pale-light
are the stars above
which dot the night.
But it is wintertime,
far away the spring
that's around the corner
surely lengthening
with a climate change
of daily-showers.
Might come snowdrops
that just aren't flowers.
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