Harriett
Your sweet love budded and blossomed,
And it came to me with an aroma;
So, i am nearer to you like the hill of Moreh.
Your love is like the vintage harvest of Abiezer,
And of a moldy loaf of barley to share with;
But you are encamped in the valley of Yezereel.
Oh Harriett my love, I only ate a little of your honey;
And now, i have found out that it is sweeter than money!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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