of beauty through joy or even owned by sadness
Tears are an open confession
Without any finite limitation
Shadowing the person within
... As the light is upon you ever so is my heart with love ... so quietly as even a wind .... ....and not to be noticed even by a feather ....I HAVE A GIFT WITH WORDS I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO SELL MYSELF LIKE A PRIZE SPECIMEN that is not my style. I am humble of heart as a vessel of love...and of nature gentle through which love is poured. There is nothing that I claim to offer but me.
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