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THE WHISTLING BOY.
THE WHISTLING BOY.
The pretty boy whistles a happy tune,
is the tune for us, or for the silvery Moon?
With angelic head and face turned up,
like Ganymede, he offers Jupiter's cup.
With spotless complexion, smooth and clear,
his boyish charm, the source of mirth and cheer;
His pouting lips, like a ripened cherry;
His youth and boyhood - bright and merry.
I watched him laying in the fresh cut hay;
Laughing and giggling in his own sweet way.
The sun reflected on his auburn hair;
The Summer breeze kissed him as it went somewhere.
And as the Sun goes down each night,
I watch him sleeping, as we lose the light.
This beautiful boy his breathing low;
what does he dream of? Perhaps I'll never know.
Jack.
(My Tumblr Boy of the Week).
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