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Nov 2018
“That time of year is now beholden upon to my behold
When fall leaves drop ever so quickly leaving trees bare,
Upon those sprigs shaking now in the brittle cold,  
Even then the God gift of birds continues to warble,  

We now espy the eventide of days that plummet,
As repeatedly watch as the sun sets in the west,  
Oh how disastrous to not see luminosity in the morn,
That takes away the dreaded darkness of the nightfall,  

Peer long and hard enough at the fiber night sky,
In me you will see the radiance of sunlight fire,
Of this you will grasp what makes a tenacious love,
Love that well which I thou must devoir before long.

May I stare into your eyes again that bare brunt?
That I may rest on the ashes of my youth may I lay,
May I be absorbed by that of once had cultivated me,
Fatality its demise may seal my boundaries to my rest
Come with me my beloved as if I were the ebbing tide”
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/31/2018 ©
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/31/2018 ©    #Poem#134
Andrew Guzaldo c
Written by
Andrew Guzaldo c  59/M/Las Vegas
(59/M/Las Vegas)   
159
     ---, Fawn, --- and Weeping willow
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