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Byline Magazine January 1988
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He Never Told Eight times so beautiful That's how fair she was And he was the first to know it. He met her only once On that silver summer night Under the silent trees In the hours before dawn.
She had obsidian eyes To hold his reflection, And slender legs To rub against his. A ruby mouth, And fine, fine hair And silk she'd weave So splendidly as her nightly work. She weaved for him This silvery castle Making a home for him to find. And when he arrived She gladly spun him up to her Under an impartial moon.
No one saw, no one knew He made love to her and died. Kept it to himself How complete he'd felt, And how the light made her look So ripe, so radiant Eight times so beautiful.
"Jason, REALLY enjoyed your poem in the January Byline. What talent! Keep up the good work." - Diane Curtis Regan |
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Copyright © 1988-2004 by Jason J. Marchi. All Rights Reserved. No portion of the text of these pages may be reprinted or stored in any form whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except when quoted briefly for purposes of review. |