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a poem for the queen

blessed be the darkened path,
that you take through the the wild woods,
a tree filled church for those alone,
and a haven for those misunderstood.
Feels unfinished. I might make it more this,

Blessed wee upon the darkened paths,
with light and hearth within those forests,
with not a thought, or bewilderment,
we strung ourselves upon a kite,
forgetting the smile of those woods.
Umile · 41-45, F
Lostpoet · M
I like this.

 
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