Bryan Sanctuary 1962

and so said i ‘look, what do you see?’
said she, ‘a golden orb that isn’t true, like you and me.’
‘no, you glanced—look – conceive the kind-red-soul’
and she said nothing but held my hand.

‘what do you think of life like ours?
two lives, mine and yours but hybrid of all kind-man’
and she stood in pensive thought,
her hands gently crossed,
and her head half high with a sparkled smile,
and a moist blue eye, a soft slender form
her skin soft and warm, as she reached for the dawn
but turned from the gold and smiled
‘i’m yours.’

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