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They pile up nicely near the door by size
and greying graduations, almost white
long sleeves to cozy scripted backs on pews.

A sycamore forest of Dead Sea eyes
and scarlet bridal snores announcing plight
for those escaping the nets of good news.

But soft! In the midst,a tendered heart cries
for love, and its return from lonely flight,
unshadowing days, all cautions unloose!

For in the stillness of her prayer,
while silence golden weighs the air,
her heart once shed that guilt of sin
will floods of empathy draw in
to pump emotion through her veins
and free her soul from mortal reigns.

(posted for Open Link Night at DversePoets)