If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to My breast.

-George Herbert


Thursday, June 16, 2011

SPRING SONG

Warm breath of grass
augments her breath,

betrays her tender
insolence.

Now hold aloft
the crowning wreath

'til bluebells' siege
shall win her mouth

and lusty Spring
her bright caress.

- by Wayward Disciple

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