Edna Jacques
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It doesn't matter much, I know,
In all this world of grief and woe,
That one small girl of half-past four
Is never watching any more,
Or runs with happy, eager feet
To meet me coming down the street.
It doesn't matter much at all
That I shall never hear her call,
Beautiful poems that evoke delight and longing and passion. What is the poem....Go out go out I beg of you,
And taste the beauty of the wild, Behold the miracle of the earth With all the wonder of a child..
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