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Quiet winter's afternoon by the windowsill
The children gone out to enjoy the cold
A silver hue of molten salt so still
The lake on which the sun sheds soft gold
I try to paint in words nature's beauty bold.
Come lend me the glory let the tale unfold
Let me receive the sacred words untold
I am a mere poetess on ivory tower
No seer no muse guides me through the cold
Wonderstruck by the beauty of your power.
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(c) Amrita Valan 2014

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