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Secret Things

by

Diane Beauton

A late night call

Muffled words

Whispers know one hears

Though uttered in the darkness

They don’t escape . . .

His ears



A rendezvous

A hidden place

A masquerade of lies

Though you think you’re incognito

Nothing eludes . . .

His eye’s



Secret things . . .

Done in the cloak of darkness

His light . . .

One day makes known

And all things we sought to hide

Are unveiled . . .

Before His throne!

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