It is not death I fear
But the thought of dying
The leaving of this sphere
It is not death I fear
The loss of those held dear
Pains most, there’s no lying
It is not death I fear
But the thought of dying

First attempt at a Triolet – thanks to Pheme Glass for the poetry exercise left for last week at Open Door Group. I’ve used and adjusted the first two lines of an old poem of mine

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