So, then I felt the grip of sand, to keep it  clenched was my stand.
I lost my touch and way of go, to claim your being as in my grip.
To hold your virtue in my way, keeping that weight without slip.
 I counted the  first and then the last, the start was quick the end came fast.

Your virtue score gave squeeze until my mind held freeze.
What good are you in my keep, the pressure to hold your feet. 
Adore. Respect, love and cherish lost its place in my view. 
With a gasp, to air went my claim, for what I can not take, you must  renew.

Only you can give this noble sense, me thinks;  I set my grains, free to air.
Now mornings and nights will find time; with sand  landed to hair.
Collected, inspected and in my  jar, for joy or wait, and kept with my tears.
As seeds of hope for your sweet touch, at your good pleasure my dear... J' Adore!

Wisdom redeems everything.

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