BarefootedA Poem by S. S. Allen
I trotted lightly,
So I wouldn't wake the earth. How can I quell this dearth? As my feet kissed upon her ambrosial dew, Tan on pthalo green; Begot a baptism for my weary soul. © 2018 S. S. Allen |
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Added on September 27, 2018 Last Updated on September 27, 2018 Author
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