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Mar 2022
The rose is at the tip of the fingers
the thorn is down the abyss what now
is a golden sun in a dew
hanging on its petal balmy hue!

The nightingale did jump on itΒ Β 
first thing in the morn
but one seems to know the rose
since the dawning of the dawn!
Written by
Shofi Ahmed  M/London UK
(M/London UK)   
2.5k
     Hamna and Hakikur Rahman
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