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PK Wakefield
Poems
Nov 2016
Untitled
open meβin this thy woken self;
please me be, within thy cloven helth.
loose thy lock:
o' woven skin and flock of grass,
where Spring hath root
and worm has pass.
be this blithe o' bonny bell
that peels in darkness a golden tell;
for thee, for thou, my hands are made,
to tend thy soul
, and flowing glade.
Written by
PK Wakefield
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