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A Short Poem |
| WRITE NO MORE “Write no more” she said “For life has its own song, Life has its own rhyme Found in the early morning Of each day Found in the early morning Of life.” “Write no more” she said “For the noon of the day Carries its own sound High into the clouds Beyond the heat of day Beyond the blinding sun The sun—that gives us warmth And gives us life.” “Write no more” she said For the twilight is aglow With the fading crimson hues Of the day Listen to the ebbing The ebbing of life’s strength.” “Hear now the waves That run from the shore Like the spirit Restlessly seeking its home.” “Write no more” she said “For the night is at hand The earth is still. The moon washes the earth’s face In a ghostly glow That covers all that sleep With their misty shrouds.” “Write no more” she said “But hear with your heart The night songs of celebration Rejoicing for all that have been And graced the earth with their lives Their loves Their very spirits. Oh hear the songs of celebration Honoring those who have been.” “Write no more” she said. |