Open Poetry #41 |
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Grinch Member Elite
since 2005-12-31
Posts 2929Whoville |
I strolled again where he was I Under the dapple of the old rook wood, Where the counterpane of green and my Youth was a tonic for my old blood. Down fall the feathers of a duck slain, Upload the memory to my eye, Bring back the follies of the wolfs bane And the supper that I plucked right out the sky. Drizzle me in years before the world turned Cold fingertips of time upon my mind, Back to the tracking and the shot earned Before the curse of age and being blind. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Like sound from a finely tuned old violin, sweet memory-notes pour forth. |
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Artic Wind Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080Realm of Supernatural |
Enjoyed ARCTIC WIND |
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Seoulair Senior Member
since 2008-03-27
Posts 807Seoul S.Korea |
love the read. |
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