THE MOON LIGHT.

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Under the illuminating moon,
stood the alabastic figure,
that i love seeing,
blanketed by the opeque enviro,
the brown face now shone lead,
when touched by the moon light,
the liquidated innocent face,
graced the egnimatic face,
underneath stood the sharp pointed nose,
like an ant hill,
centraly placed over the smooth spongy lips,
correctly framed by the squre jaw,
producing the eer sound,
slowly reaching my ears,
hypnotizing my mind,
pushing me to a trance.





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Haggai I. said...
Jan. 13, 2012 at 12:44 am
i love the rhythmical sound of the poem...
 
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