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Oh well. (sonnet #MMMMMCMLXXVIII) Earl Grey and biscuit for a proper sense Of yonder ist? where blue skies fringe clouds' veil Known as white racks that keener eye'd wax pale Through as how orange paints bits and pieces hence Whiles yellow flutters to the sidewalks whence Tis trod whilst fills aught cracks in sheer betrayl; La, bony limbs cast 'gainst these heavns look frail, How vines run riot in deep reds' intents. Hot soup for dinner, I wear plaid now fer Ah kicks, a kilt to boot, as if being new Might salve the galling void I can't endure, Yet must. Talk of espresso gadgets to Think ya, the French Press grand. And tea. What's poor Is blindness cuz the LORD's our life, ne brew. 19Oct16b
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Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
This Trying to Get Your Bearings Is Old
Oh well. (sonnet #MMMMMCMLXXVIII) Earl Grey and biscuit for a proper sense Of yonder ist? where blue skies fringe clouds' veil Known as white racks that keener eye'd wax pale Through as how orange paints bits and pieces hence Whiles yellow flutters to the sidewalks whence Tis trod whilst fills aught cracks in sheer betrayl; La, bony limbs cast 'gainst these heavns look frail, How vines run riot in deep reds' intents. Hot soup for dinner, I wear plaid now fer Ah kicks, a kilt to boot, as if being new Might salve the galling void I can't endure, Yet must. Talk of espresso gadgets to Think ya, the French Press grand. And tea. What's poor Is blindness cuz the LORD's our life, ne brew. 19Oct16b
We've always patted the suffering on the head, proffering a steamy cuppa for consolation haven't we? and...nevermind me.
JennyGordon
Written by
51/F/Bolingbrook, IL
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
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