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By reading Jane Austin,
Artisans and writes,
I picture Juliet,
Not that of Shakespeare,
But my own, the Janet.
She, the thief of my heart
Forty-two is crowned
As a child, well-mannered.
She, the great magician,
Is fun and devoted,
Is clown, comedian,
Also is my grandmother.
Follows the rules of love,
Is aware of our time,
And she is, most of all,
Residing in my heart
To be mine, only mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well crafted and beautifully penned poem that should be PoD, and i hope it's selected. A good 10*