Four rings on my hands, my wedding ring, anniversary ring, birthstone and another special gift from my husband.
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On her hands four rings she wears,
Bands of gold and diamonds there.
Precious metals decked with jewels,
for reasons why, there are no rules.
And if there were she wouldn’t share,
they are but sentimental tools.
A simple band, her wedding ring,
ten years on left a twinkle brings.
Black Hills metal in leafen form,
Sparkling opal on right is worn.
Daughter’s birthstone, a precious thing,
They share the month that they were born.
Her life contained in simple bands,
no one but her can understand,
she holds the world on those two hands.
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