Fair Hair - Poem by James McLain
Star of mourning upon me it beams;
passing fair, hair now to shimmer
near tender thus sweet
dearest my brightest
joy mine you delight us
still above us too love me
Highest above coming down
do you hear me.
Strike deep this heart
thine eyes like mine
your hand brought me up
in sleep rests upon me.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
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