I search my face

 

I search my face, not painted pale.

into the morning’s early day

without the cover or the veil

a smile as sweet as a bouquet

 

A sincere glow from nights ballet

A rose that blooms in full detail,

A tawny image for a stay

I search my face, not painted pale.

 

Who is this woman that I hail

and can not ever toss away

In lasting vision, I entail

into the morning’s early stay.

 

Who c...


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