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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems permission to use
provided by the author. |
Fashion finds no favor in your
heart,
Intimidated by a classic grace.
For life, to be worth living, is an art
That carries all its meaning in its face,
Yielding subtleties too fine to trace.
There is a definition to your soul,
Hard-derived but easily applied,
Remnant of a once-resplendent whole
Ebbed long ago with some receding tide,
Each glory left behind a well-thumbed guide. |