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Library: To A Girl Whose Name I Don't Know


Author: merja
Date:Feb 24 2008

Just as one may hear the wind whispering in the air,
One could also hear my soul sing about the girl with dark hair
Just as the creek gurgles past the ancient rocks,
My heart and mind ponder the girl with black locks

The wind is intermittent; but it whispers now for you to hear
However the creek flows always; it's sounds can now be heard by your delicate

Meanwhile the homo sapien sits on an ancient rock by the creek
With pen, paper he methodically and purposely speaks
The words that are written here the creature felt he must somehow say
And the sounds from his lips are open for the wind to blow as it may.

From an unknown hospital corpsman. Great Lakes, Illinois, USA.