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Poetry from within

Love's Shadow (Shanice

And what of Beauty, and what of Truth

And who walks there through Rowbank Wood.?

Enfolded and placed within a book

Where few would ever chance to look.

To read my words that in your praise

May pass for ever down the age.

‘Your beauty charms the every hour

More lovely than the loveliest flower.’

O how that modest, quiet-content

Might seem -as if- from Heaven sent.

But who am I, you may well ask-

A line into a deep pool’s cast…

Though, if I’m there - I won’t be found

Love’s shadow passes like a cloud…

Robert Carson