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A poem written during a time of turmoil and suffering by me

Roses of Ann

The melody of the many who dance,

they have all the answers, chance by chance.

A glimpse from you single them out.

Many who transform to heart then out.

A place here, a place there a place safe everywhere.

Grounds are walked two by two.  Who enters, you or you?

A sifter the need like hands on clock, tic, toc, the heart is full,

the time of land end until.

Time the given splended eye,

one with you for you and I.

He spills the sights to join his land, we took him far hand in hand.

As child I quote, Problems, end not by hand, that of man.

Our savior went out into the land, took them all hand in hand.

Frozen and frosted throughout the land, desert storms that of man.

Heat the stricken fire of man.

Plentiful bushes of rose and weed,

we planted them here seed by seed.

Equivalent I thought never did I, that is why I have the eye.

Best of plans mortal the man, gifted souls throughout the land,

will rest forever hand in hand.

Thank you for reading this poem.  Please feel free to leave a comment or message even email me with Faithsite in the subject line.


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