Puzzled, Princess Amelia reflexively clutched the note tight in her hand as she gazed down the street after the urchins. Glancing down, she slowly unfolded the dirty paper and brought it close beneath her glasses squinting at the tiny print. “If you wish to find your ambassador,” the note said, “see Father Mark at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre after mass tomorrow.” Ecstatic and hoping this would prove the break she needed; Princess Amelia silently sent a prayer of thanks to the magnanimous soul who had sent her the note.
Wow ur blog has certainly changed ever since I last visited it.I lkie it. Remember,u commented on my last poem.Now there 's a new one based on surrealism.I would love 2 have ur comments.www.deepteshpoetry.blogspot.com
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