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Edgar Whitman Wilde
Poems
Aug 2012
Caravaggio
Smiling eyes
In sensuous touch
Of naked sound
Taste mysterious pulses
Imprisoned yet unbound
Spangled light reflected
Colors that pierce the ground
While echoes of
Forgotten brush strokes flutter
Like a thousand birds all around
One moment, this moment
This scene, Oh! this freedom
Holding in the artists tender touch
The promise of a lifetime
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
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