Foxglove

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Foxglove on a vine
A fruit of divine blessing
Sung in a visual mine
Of pinks and furious drops
Of purple venom
Descending in bloom.
A fox has never been
So clever in stillness
As the glove of beauty
You portray. But he that dares
To Pluck it, be warned;
Her elegant shroud
Is no safe scene
to witness the ruse
of this perfectly,
poisonous,
crime.

-jeffrey vionito

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