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Beneath the shadows of an old oak tree
There lays a place of memory;
By forested shapes of swaying shades,
Where all to stillness swiftly fades;
Where solemn whispers fill red skies,
Bringing mist to languid eyes.
2
Oh come, sweet girl, run away with me
From the dimming sounds of the strange city,
To the place where lifetimes swiftly pass
Neath oaken leaves and windswept grass;
We’ll catch the sunlight’s final beams
And fade away to wondrous dreams.
3
And there we’ll learn those mystic arts
Which mesmerize entwining hearts,
As sleepy stars come out to shine,
To wonder at what’s yours and mine;
And all the seasons of life and change,
We’ll watch and laugh and rearrange…
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2 Comments
“You have a way with words” is such an understatement, Ben. I love this poem. “To the place where lifetimes swiftly pass”!!!, it’s the ultimate romantic spot. And I love the last two lines, especially the very last word. It’s priceless!
Margo! It’s really encouraging for me to read your comments. Thank you so much. I love that you love poetry. It makes it really fun to share. I’ve always liked that last word too, but I never knew why. That’s funny
It’s just an odd word for a poem, so it probably sticks out.