Whispers of the Wind

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The moon is my lover
And I am his
He holds me tenderly
In his embrace
Each night
Kissing my blushing cheek
With his soft beams
I adore him and
He loves me and
Fills me
With passion
Patiently I wait
For the sun
To drift asleep
So that Moon can
Slip into my room
On the whispers
Of the wind

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About The Girl Who...

...wore blue shoes. Poet, painter, blogger, daughter of the King: I express myself through art in literature and acrylic and clacking of keyboard keys because I have been given a passion for each like a knawing in my breast. I contemplate the world and everything therein through a lense of Christian theistic philosophy and wish to share with you the resulting musings which I mutter to myself.

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