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  October's Child

Has Time Slipped Away

Chameleonic getaways; an old wishing well
An imaginary audience awaiting her tale
A master performer in her own seasons
Dressing well, under a canopy of reasons


Cinnamon surroundings amid tender shades
Of Mardi Gras mornings and Easter parades
A deep South rendition of southern charm
White lace parasols, her gentleman's arm


Plantations and rose gardens, weeping willow trees
White-fenced honeysuckles, tea, if you please
The knelling of bells, an old church steeple
Cupped in the shadows an angelic people


The wind turns the pages; she holds the book
Who's picking jasmine, alone, by the brook
She steps from the script into the next day
But has it vanished; has time -- slipped away


Le temps s'est-il esquivé ?


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