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B S May 2011
Stop! Fair maiden, excuse my haste --
but today the Heavens weep.
Off of your feet will you allow me to sweep,
and adore you in all your grace?
Your eyes they sparkle upon your face,
a gaze to make my heart leap.
The most pure of flowers may never creep --
close to the beauty you encase.
Stay with me a little while,
until those tears do dry.
Close your eyes, I'll sing a lullaby ,
until the east see's moonshine.
Bid the day farewell -- dream -- release a smile,
we will meet again, next Winter time.

— The End —