Rick Miser
Omaha, NE, USA
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The Dark Hall

The waves rippled gently against the soft shore,
trees whispered, caressed by halcyon breeze.
In comfort from sun and warmth, one begs for more,
to hold precious moments, those lost with such ease. The long-darkened hall lay still, the door creaked,
reluctantly opening to reveal as one peeked,
Once the site of many bright and gay celebrations
in response to happy and gay exaltations.
Now stands all dusty, cobwebbed and solemn
from once-shiny floors to the farthest high column. The touching of hearts, the sharing of souls,
an outpour of thoughts which but enrolls
One to follow another as spirits high soar
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