Looking back I feel I know her still,

Her, the little girl who plays on my strwaberry hill,

Love is so deep from love of ages past,

Stones of castles ruined make homes that last,

I think of my little heart at eight, nine, and ten,

And how much I wished to love her then,

Cast through the warped chasm of time,

I say I love you in this rhyme.

By Ryan Anthony Gibson

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