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My apologies once again.

Langauge is left to those who long for words. That is langauge is for the poets and those who want to write poetry. I Love these lines. I even put a heart next to them when I first read the poem.

Let them leave langauge to their lonely betters
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep:
Words are for those with promises to keep.
W. H. Auden-“Their Lonely Betters”

Love will grow when effort and time is put into it. Lack of time, effort and belief (faith) will leave the heart beating louder then when two people meet.

One thing I know, that love with chance
And use and time and necessity
Will grow, and louder the heart’s dance
At parting than at meeting be.
Edward Thomas-“When?First”

I have no gloss for this one, I just love the poem. I have a different meaning for it everytime I read it. It really depends when I read it, where I am when I read it or how I’m feeling. It also reminds me of different things.

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Ezra Pound-“In a Station of Metro”

-ivette

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