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The Searching

. After childhood sleep, Of days into dawning, Shucked of dusted clay, Eyes set unto fawning, Then, the rowing began. Shy gentle waves lulling As it does for Everyman Who seeks loves' culling. In a tempest of blue sky, I was engulfed so plain, That time was sore to eye, All suitors never maidens. One true love never came, Nor to fly as birds teeming, Now all is shipwreck of age, Ah, but to drown dreaming.
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Written by
ormond
Irish
For You?
Written by
ormond
Irish
Published
Jun 12, 2016
Lines·Words
20·76
Tags
#love#dream#life#hope
Permission

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