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Dec 2012
Human senses on emotion feather'd,
Hang by threads, make thy mind pleasur'd.
Frosted stream of crystal air
Cools the throats of men;
Closing behind allure of liquid amber,
Breathe to soothe back to their den.
Seen a sight never seen before;
Time plods long, stops the winds push.
Greenéd ever trees stand still on the moor,
Birds fly to the tower; view spreads to lush.
Perched on high from Gods temple door,
Flocks that gather to hear natures hush.
No music from this raiséd correlation?
Strangéd my mind, this earths variation.
Lee Janes
Written by
Lee Janes
507
 
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