The warmth afore ere feel, summer fails, leaves lie brown are dampened now, tis’ with faint heart thy welcome in, nor by choice let winter sin, calm seas swirl, waves roll and prance, redemptions here to steal away the stags last dance, a heinous horror doth plenty kill err’ multitude of souls therest lie ill, thou’ sorrows thorn till festive eve, a child sleeps a baby born, while those that lost, forever mourn.
Sunday, 12 September 2021
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Bindweed
Weed grows where the weed sows Nettle stings, to and fro Ivy climbs, killing slow In strength it wraps and grows and grows But the bindweed...
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The Oregon trail in west Texas, west. the host is the land, growing trees abreast It bears the name wild.. the wild Wild West always; will ...

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