Patrick William Kavanagh
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The Goddess Calls
Who are you?
Strange longing that has crept into my restful soul,
I hear your quiet whisper, but, in words not of my race...
There is nothing in this world is seek, - My cup is full
and yet you call me softly from some distant place.
Are you the whisper in the wind that calls my name?
The Breaking of the waves against some rocky shore?
Or Moonlit shadows rustling in some country lane.