He saw her over the gulf of eternity
Sitting under the great oak.
Her body swathed in white chiffon
and lace,
Her knees up
Her body cradled over
the box... the box of gold..
her gift.
She sat there crying,
Her sobs touching every fibre of her soul.
For inside the box, was her gift,
of love, her soul, her desire, her need.
The precious seeds of her womanhood.
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