The First Phase of Growth

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I am a victim of my own devising

I am a shooting star

I am a singer who begs revising

I stand with truth and a cracked guitar

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So steer the course without a rudder

swim the sea in a ripping tide

If words won’t lift me over Jordan

I’ll beg the porpoise for a ride.

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Send me a moon to trace the water

Send me a cat to climb the dawn

Ring the bluebells, mix the mortar

Build a cairn when day is gone.

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Welcome, new followers! Thanks for reading! Send me a comment once in while!

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Available from Handersen Publishing or Amazon.com

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