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A white rose and a poem. He gave these to her one summer evening in the veranda just when the moon was beaming with pride as queen of the night sky. The white petals' breath perfumed the air while her eyes moved through the lines on the white sheet ~ bespeaking so much of her and her innocence she knew he has always loved just like the flower he has given to her: furled, fresh, frail. They talked but not much for only their smiles seemingly defied the dullness of time; holding them still in the cobweb of silence ~ her world. Her thoughts and sentiments ~ his mystery. That night was a realization of her dream he never knew ~ he was just starting to try out his first key. By: Elena Maria Mana-ay Parcon Vote for this poem
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