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Sep 2015
She
.
In blistering, new dawn,
Out of the smoke of night
Man faced beauty and she,
Hair scented of first spring,
Her eyes of creation, broke,
Faraway and strange, pierced
Stone with lashes of feather,
With fingers of pillowed bed
And vice, dumbfounded, then,
From this day on, innocence
Would both live, all too frail,
Die in its journey to the ocean,
Then, was man by open seas,
Of happiness and soft sorrows,
Elation so become, waves born
Like dream, caress within dream,
She, her eyes, lips, child face,
A singular flower of radiance,
Planted by the fabled lands
Unconquered, unplucked,
Nascent, fertility, waters,
Teeming in the sun, now
God was gazing, longing,
With glint in his eye, yes,
Man to this morn redeemed,
Shall be crazed, blessed more,
Touch nature, know temperance,
Sublime, precious, vernal truth,
Thus, ever be touched himself,
Reborn, in blistering new dawn.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
596
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