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The Rose Of Midnight

Rating: 2.7
The moon is now an opening flower,
The sky a cliff of blue.
The moon is now a silver rose;
Her pollen is the dew.

Her pollen is the mist that swings
Across her face of dreams:
Her pollen is the April rain,
Filling the April streams.
Her pollen is eternal life,
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6/19/2021 7:03:29 AM # 1.0.0.631