Stone henge.A Poem by andrew mitchell
As I wandered
the glens of time I found rolling stones gather no moss, sticks and stones do break men's bones, as little old witches living in glass houses with no rum to speak of, still warm the soul as Pagans gather outside collecting large stones.
© 2021 andrew mitchell |
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1 Review Added on August 8, 2021 Last Updated on August 8, 2021 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

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