Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Though through all times

and a few minds

be after ides a freshened pace,

we know not when

or really how

the sun will show anew sublime,

the flow'r of song

and wakened hour

gainsay and require a passion'd step.

past the poisoned,

dusky water

and questions shown the dawn's cold glow

what grace will clear

Autumn face appear

and a milder climate show?



(Bad poetry courtesy of Adam's winter mind. Thanks for your patience)

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