Torn from the pages of a book crafted long ago,
Words separated from their peers now search for home.
Sad yet hopeful for an outcome full of joyful news,
They begin their voyage for that place which once was known.
Myriad permutations of possibility,
Like trade winds from the east, propel their journey.
As dew forming silently on newly blossomed rose petals,
The words coalesce once again on new pages vibrantly.
January 24, 2007 by Glen Alan Woods
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