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Monday, 25 October 2010

The Lamp



"The Lamp"

Shining like a star
A burning firelight so
small, as a fairy's breath,
So warm, like a tired sleeping sun.

It reaches for you,
And you can come then
to drink the essence
To taste the sweetness,
and kiss the sugary cup.

When the moths fly
You and I dance,
With my eternal glowing
and it burns your icy glance.

Red, orange, golden, amber,
it becomes violet and blue.

We turn left and right,
in sacred ground,
heavily the sky is tainted
in the fusion of past, present, future.

(Poem by Ragna Oct 2010)

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