When I was seventeen I submitted a Fantasy poem to a literary magazine. To my rapturous joy, they accepted it. Thus, was I published.
I might have a copy of it somewhere on the other side of the planet.
Essentially, the poem was about the magical Otherworld that comes out once the sun sets. (Okay, it also had a touch of self-insertion as the narrative "I" goes for a romp.)
I do remember the final line: "I fall back to my earth. It is morning."
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Her Grace's first publication still has a special place in her heart. Since then, every publication has had a touch of that same magic.
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