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craig apogee Mar 2015
you sweep in a like a gust of leaves
turning my head and commanding my eyes
which are now firmly pinned to your rustling rhythm
a crisp distraction

the type that lingers on...
for days...
nights...
weeks...

unwilted by time
preserved in my mind
a renaissance of the heart and soul
a beautiful, crisp distraction
Sometimes its the small victories
Aaron Mullin Sep 2014
The Guide and I into that road
     Now entered, to return to the bright world;
     And without care of having any rest                                         135

We mounted up, he first and I the second,
     Till I beheld through a round aperture
     Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;

Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
By Dante Alighieri

Final three stanzas
Many legends there be back in days of old;
Legends of bold knights upon their noble steeds.
This be a tale starring a knight and his steed
As one and the same.

'Twas in the Renaissance city of Poitiers
The prodigy of a holy knight was born;
Sir Nathanëal of the Salomon bloodline,
Lineage of victors.

He bore the heart and voice of an archangel
And the loyalty of a priest to his God.
No other horse he rode but his first and last;
Dear "Divinitus."

Alas, his loyalty had cost him dearly
In the midst of the Battle of Moncontour.
Thus came the end of Nathanëal Salomon.
Or so it had seemed.

By the hands of benevolent sorcery,
Nathanëal and Divinitus lived again,
This time sharing a peculiar physique
Of both man and horse.

Thus, blessed with fur of white and a mane of gold,
Well-equipped with lightweight armour and claymore,
He walked the outskirts of France slaying evil
As both knight and steed.
Here is my very first sapphic which I wrote as part of my homework for Tees Achieve Creative Writing.

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© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude

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