Musing on Yvonne Strahovski

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Dear Lord, ‘the weight of words’ are too heavy to possibly float upon the ‘grace of light’ which dawn- glimmers of the eternal- in her eyes; therefore, captivating men as does the sun to the land. Blue flint, struck harshly, sparks secrets- gripped in her gaze. Soft contours become your freedom where ‘by mercy’ you may die upon her lips.
-Bridget Chase – 2017- Musing about Yvonne Strahovski-