It  might trickle slowly, timid and shy
From the inner eyelid of a song
Or down the cheek of something wonderful
A sunset on the hill, or moonlight on the lake
A rose in bloom…a drop of dew…so tiny, sweet and beautiful
It fills a cup with voiceless wonder, and deep affection
It languishes softly…with wild abandonment
And will not be tamed…

 Carrie Richards

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