A love returns

While clearing a couple of old boxes in which I packed my meagre belongings when I came down to Oz, I spied a slip of paper with some crude scribbles.

To my surprise it was an old poem I had attempted to compose in my youthful days, wakakaka. Here is it:

The morning mist lovingly lingers
around rose petals and drops of dew

Soft black tresses caress pink cheeks
wet with tears sparkling with rainbow hue

But the sun rises bright and shining
burning the vapour to yonder blue

I see a smile blooming on rosebud lips
dear one, your love has returned to you

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