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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

A Blessing Mid Summer

It is hard to fathom
where a year must plunge.
Events must stretch
with time and fate.
The indestructible survives.
I stopped at the edge
of a place called life,
and met an inconvenient truth
called death, cutting grass.
No special introduction.
They say love happens
just like that,
a fist hitting you inside,
calamity or paradise.

But this was not love
at its first sight,
being a veteran of that,
this was quite literally
a heart about to break,
and a profound resignation
that a beat away
love might be gone,
not enough to have known
or lived,
except an answer to a prayer,
I’ve given you love again.
Fare thee well, my son.

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