Tag Archives: Chaucerian stanza

Wounded to the Core: Chaucerian stanzas

If you would comprehend the world at all, imagine this: a place so pure and wild it knows just spring, not summer yet, or fall. Like a capricious, spoiled and errant child it knows not between sacred and defiled, but … Continue reading

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The Confession of Revenge: rime royal or Chaucerian stanza

There is no good in a war of revenge, which at best requires its combatants cold while for its public approval depends upon hot blood if it is to be sold (and hue and cry, if the plain truth be … Continue reading

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