This Poem was Submitted By: Doris C. Swearingen On Date: 2001-06-01 22:17:40 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Gift Of Violet

I have packed the picnic basket with all your favorites, cold chicken, potato salad, raisin pie, my love for you. The summer sky is Larkspur blue. Our picnic patch is much the same, steeped in golden sun-warm rays, all it lacks are your mad-cap ways. Two years ago we danced in this meadow to symphony only free birds sing. We watched the red-orange glow of a sun setting slowly. I still have that silver ring, dropped from a penny machine, that you looped through a flower stem, priceless as any store bought gem. You gave me gift of Violet then left one day while the morning glories slept.

Copyright © June 2001 Doris C. Swearingen

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