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Swan To Her Cob

Swan to her Cob

 

My fight with depression was long and severe
Then I met my Cob, I knew hope was near.
He flied to my shoulder and begged for a kiss
He ruffled his feathers when His beak met my lips.

 

I measured the world with my ruby eyes;
I have perched on Wisdom's tree
Thronged with the blossoms of Paradise
By the streams of Eternity.

 

Nothing is hid from my burning heart;
My mind is explained and still;
My song is rapture's mystic art,
My flight immortal will.

 

Little bird! O little bird!

I wonder what you are doing

Singing merry far from me,

I in sadness all alone-

Hope you too agree!

 

Little bird! O little bird!

I wonder how you are….

High on the tips of branching boughs,

I on the ground a bit far…..

 

 

Paromita

26/08/09//--\\3.02 P.M.

 

 

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