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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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