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Unpolished weathered wood plays on my palms, I pull and reach and pull an even beat Attending algae'd oars aqueous psalm Altered by the tangled grass I meet, in counterpoint small waves percuss the prow Accentuating the pause before I cull, Mellifluous zephyrs bowing across my brow Enhance the exposition of the gulls, Above the hem of heaven's dress the bright Cerulean bodice trilled with Cirrus lace Beguiles regard, but maddeningly polite She smooths her skirt across the score of space Eclipsing a poet's want to read the ruse, This lady only lingers to amuse.
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
Lady of the Lake
Unpolished weathered wood plays on my palms, I pull and reach and pull an even beat Attending algae'd oars aqueous psalm Altered by the tangled grass I meet, in counterpoint small waves percuss the prow Accentuating the pause before I cull, Mellifluous zephyrs bowing across my brow Enhance the exposition of the gulls, Above the hem of heaven's dress the bright Cerulean bodice trilled with Cirrus lace Beguiles regard, but maddeningly polite She smooths her skirt across the score of space Eclipsing a poet's want to read the ruse, This lady only lingers to amuse.
I like the challenge of writing sonnets. Copyright 1998 JB Marshall
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
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