OLD POEMS
I love looking through my mom's old book of poems and I am going to share this one with you.
IF, AS I LIVE
If, as I live, I could become
Immune to beauty's call
and never be affected
By a lovely rose at all;
If I could watch a sunset
and not become inspired
nor by a burning bush
that autumn flame has fired,
or a friend to play me false
and never shed a tear,
and to another friend in pain
I'd turn a deafened ear;
I'm sure, then, I'd suffer less
If all of this were so;
but, if it were, I'd just as well
have died long years ago.
-- Daisy Moore Bynum --
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Thursday, 9 August 2012
Good Poetry
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