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■ The oak
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She holds her self back
from feeling the intensity the magic that the moment brings Almost scared to encounter here her heart. Its fine the summers Sun soon will warm where her blood longs its flow and those aching arms shall reach For the love she longs to know. I whispered a silent thought upon the soft breeze today It held its own Like a feather falling, twirling down It seemed to rest itself gently to the ground. The day rode its way across the horizon The soft nights chill filled the air held us together in a comfort that words shared and dressed in warmth She knew my soul and liked it But does she know? Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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