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"friary" poems
Her burial place is in the records. We have her lovely name. She was a benefactor of the friary, Thus, a prominent soul. Agreed. Her story, lost forever. O, what a shame. Nothing more is known of Emma. Here's her 5 minutes of fame!
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
The Lady Buried Near Richard, III
A wraparound escalier Rosette's to wrap ourn Dud's Rebels to society Low and high class thugs Epicurean phenomenon!!!! A Cosmo's to macroism's Plasma to holy force Phatom's of ourn own opera As yen to take its course Homage to ourn own castle!!! Excretion to bare ourn name Wild gluttons Barbarian untamed Spelling eachother's name In hieroglyphic memorandum!!! We shalt travel beyond old Egypt We shalt gun the pagodas We shalt peep the shrines of gosha As in giants we shalt become!!! A convent well maketh many babies Basilica's of the angels Seraph's of treaties Shalt we sign ourn admiration in blood? Tis Yes Tis Love!!! Kirks to keep ourn reme mberance Friary's to be attentive As the mutuality Shalt be sweet mine aimer!!!! No distance shalt be to far No rancor to blow ourn hearts No hot mustard to stain out tarts As Madrid shalt wrap us between acacia posie's!!!!
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
ακακία τυλιγμένο (Acatia wrapped) greek tongue
A frigid night outside the friary Where only hears the sound of hearse Insensible heart but with sadness Liniment by loneliness and sadness. Forever drown in this solitude fane Clad with great shame Mincing to wait yet groaning under pain Her laconic eyes seems in chain. A nightmare echoed as knell An old cascade now pouring down tears Can't find a way to be elated. Destituted and chilled by many faces. How lonesome you are! You're dismal and with devious pride You elude but always caught A mariontte that always drift. They repress you to fly And a peevish child in you makes you cry. Someone's flayed you but you denied You only have one hop but they owed you a thousand strides. They inflict you to 'kiss the rod' Now you're a 'damsel in distress' Your flimsy wings turns into embers Reason why they taunt you and makes your dreams shutter. But I know this knell will turn into a serenade Though I have an embered wings, someday I will reincarnate I will bring back my glittering cascade. I will leave this frigid friary and devastate their masquerade.
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Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
Lonesome Dove
On the Vigil of the Nativity In a Capuchin friary, on a wall In faded letters from the long ago A simple sign asks the casual visitor                       “Why Are You Here?” And that’s a fair question; it always is If I am in one place, I am not in another; Unless someone has forced me otherwise I have made a choice to be where I am So why do I kneel here (and half asleep) In a Stable, among cattle and sheep?
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Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
12.18 - same old FORBIDDEN 12.17 - Yes, FORBIDDEN. 12.16 - still FORBIDDEN. On the Vigil of the Nativity (still unsure re the title)