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Nigella, Soft, in Purple’s Waxing Gaze – Sonnet Twenty
Nigella, soft, in purple’s waxing gaze,
In circle’s center waits her fertile spire,
Will soon expand, in rounded wonder raise,
And form the crux of risings’ born desire.
A simple knot of budding found concealed,
In verdant grove of first Spring’s welcome, lush
In lotus’ near appearance, once revealed,
That colors quick from pale to willing blush.
In night’s recede with wash of valley’s fall,
A rain in sweet swept play with taste of Spring,
The velvet petals fleet with night’s recall,
Their spread, the gentle laving, new rise brings.
That passing storm such wonders, open show,
A flower in its season’s grace bestow.
In circle’s center waits her fertile spire,
Will soon expand, in rounded wonder raise,
And form the crux of risings’ born desire.
A simple knot of budding found concealed,
In verdant grove of first Spring’s welcome, lush
In lotus’ near appearance, once revealed,
That colors quick from pale to willing blush.
In night’s recede with wash of valley’s fall,
A rain in sweet swept play with taste of Spring,
The velvet petals fleet with night’s recall,
Their spread, the gentle laving, new rise brings.
That passing storm such wonders, open show,
A flower in its season’s grace bestow.
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