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Ars Poetica by Catherine M F Camarda Poets rise above waters smashing; thoughts that wave in constant thrashing. Trees bow to your sweet adieu, speaking in rustles of only You. Waters on lakes ripple in time, to maybe force a poetic rhyme. Mountains waver a twinkled thought that neither mind or soul has bought. Oh Bards of old and of new, God can Only give Words to you. |
 This poem was a finalist in the December 2008 poetry contest |
This poem may be use within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.