August W. Landing
New Is Found And Old Is Lost... - Poem by August W. Landing
The new was sparkle
The old was Shine.
The new was wild,
The old was mine.
And why is it the wilding new:
that I know not and knows me not
Trembles and shackles my heart of you
Like a sweet piano knot?
I give my roses for my bluebells
Roses were prettier,
But Bluebells are new...
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