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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems permission to use
provided by the author. |
Cold comfort in the chastity of
sorrow,
Having turned in pain towards innocence,
Reaching through the madness for the marrow,
Intent, for once, on yielding all pretence;
Sensing the necessity of love
Though feeling none but hunger well within,
Meaning nothing more than one might prove
As one finds little proof in death and sin:
So it was one night in Bethlehem. |