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- The Old Guitar: a love songThey say you are inanimate, but I believe they lie. The world is made of tiny stuff that never quite stands still; and as your …
- Stop all the clocksStop all the clocks! The hours must halt their slow and steady marching on; let all lay fallow in default until this fickle mood is …
- Blow Thou, Winter WindBlow thou, winter wind, on my shutters and doors, knock down happy scenes outside department stores, and lay your hand over the acres of trees …
- The Old Guitar: a love song
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Tag Archives: anacreonetic
For the Goddess: an anacreontic
I put my faith in the divine, when its word turns to flesh like thine: with each curve and unbroken line a glimpse of something pure and fine; and on your lips, like sacred wine, I long to linger and … Continue reading