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To My Angela
An angry shout may not be heard, and
Not all good deeds are observed,
Glad is the learned, pure, heart
Ever loved, oft alone, you are
Luminous with life's energy
And part of my soul projects
In you, myself, yourself I respect.
Long days, short years, bitter true
Only one chance to know you, this
Voyage without certain destination
Embarked with unknown duration, for
You I long to know
On terms as friends
Until my journey ends.
30/4/2003-1/5/2003
(An acrostic for my eldest daughter)
poem
by
Danny Draper
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