A POEM
Ice in the spirit
Is but frozen tears
And bitterness
Is expectation killed.
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- Karl Keating
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Gentle Lord, I love You.
You tiptoe ‘cross my heart.
You sit beside me quietly…
My very breath seems evidence of You. My pulse throbs with a Spirit not…
O Lord, what notion of hyperbole.
What willed and wild imagining was born
When Adam,…
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