she's no below thee
yet thou fairest weakens knee
betwixt glimmer thy skin of milk
thence shimmer Winks of that ilk
breatheth high o'er low crying
rest divine unheard plea dying
bespeak beseech love fairest
'how, tell me, my dearest!'
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Wandering Through Poetry
PoetryPoetry because the essence of our life depends on it. note: these are actually the poems i accumulated for the past 3 years.
