Like folded hands steepled in prayer
The Longhua Pagoda solemnly beckons –
Where are the stars that paint the sky;
Only the gentle moon silently casts its light
On the mysterious city of Shanghai…
What a cold, lonely night
As I walk through it snow-laden grounds
And I behold the haunting sight
Of winter trees and stones;
And hues of blue and gray and white
Dance to the eerie sounds of silence…
Upon its lace-mantled bosom
A golden light glows
A solitary glimpse of warmth
For a distant soul in hope
Of Memories and a China Rose…
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