dino evans


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A Poem To Begin

The summer sun sinks quietly, but evening takes the day
I sit alone and think of things you've said,
And then your voice comes silently, and I can hear the way
So gently you had spoken, from the poems you had read.
I would build a fire for us, and you looked long for books,
In your hand, a well chilled glass of wine.
You'd turn your head and give to me some sweet, and loving look,
Just your presence, stopped for me, the dreadful hands of time.

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