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Sep 21
Her face is like a poem
Her heart a willow tree
Bending softly in the moon-glow
Beating always for me
She’s the bell in my distance
The hearth at home
With me everywhere
Even when I’m alone
In the desert she is water
She’s the forest and the trees
Everything she is to me
Everything
Written by
Neville Johnson  Los Angeles
(Los Angeles)   
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