This Love Affair Call Life
I am too often a silent partner,
Hiding – in fear of what?
Could it be joy
of such an exquisitely simple nature
I mistook it for a dream.
The cynic’s shroud.
When did I first try it on?
Long ago when I gave up
on fairy wings and dancing slippers.
That wonder of being sparkling always
Beneath the comfortless shroud.
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