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Parsavagely Kompenere
Poems
Jul 2016
Jewel
What could be a jewel, rolling on the water,
Gliding on the surface,
Unobstructed, no rock nor branch interferes,
No ripple adjusts its path.
The jewel is an orb,
At one with the silk of a soft stream.
It glistens, drifting in no hurry,
Calmly downstream, round a bend, behind the bank.
Gone.
Written by
Parsavagely Kompenere
19/F/Yorkshire
(19/F/Yorkshire)
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Keith Wilson
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Parsavagely Kompenere
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