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Monday, December 26, 2011

On the Feast of Stephen

When the wren
senses the sun’s gift,
its enlightened touch
warming a tender brown breast,
he begs neither hand nor pen
to send his blessings

2 comments:

manik sharma said...

francis,
the underline of this is a blessing in itself if one did not wait for the hand to brushed against the forehead....a very strong post francis.....loved it..

Francis Scudellari said...

Thanks so much Manik :).