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The air was fresh, an' the cliffs where white,
Below or above is a magic site,
At night the moon is a luminous light,
Though the cold sea when touched can bite.
The sky was high an' knitted with clouds,
The mountains were tall an' with a fortress so proud,
Through its victory of land through cowed.
The pain of a broken heart it vowed.
Her hair was fair, long, an' platted brunette,
Her red cheeks were divine in the dry an' the wet.
Her eyes were genuine hazel an' awaited yet,
To experience the life in which was to be set.
Through day she milked, she cleaned an' watchd' hewed,
Through night she fed the cat that mewed.
Two Seasons of Thought
The two Seasons of thought
There lived once, a poor little boy,
Who had no friends, nor had a toy.
But brought to his grandmother great, joy,
But couldn't tell difference between real an' decoy.
He spends his days in cold frost an' snow,
To collect firewood, so grandmother cooks dough'.
Though their ceiling is wrecked an' simply low,
He catches a brief glimpse of the red skinn'd doe
This time of season is white an' still,
But is cold, an' cruel an' can kill.
Through hazard, hail that upsets the water mill,
That blankets over dear bluebells, found on the hill.
After search for wood he stops after breeze,
He walks through the wh
Destiny and Desire
Destiny and Desires
The hills are high in Eskdale Green,
An' the streams are flowing lightly across the wood,
Cottages are covered with vines of lilac wisteria,
An' the candle is alit all night in Rockwood.
I live in Garden's Cottage not so far from St Bega's,
The cottage is so small, but is toasty and warm.
Cream it is on the inside with humble furnishing,
Its size is petite but was built to elegant form.
Sunday it was when I went to St Bega's,
The church was quiet, as the priest preached his homily,
Regarding our destinies and our desire
The importance of breeding a good family.
Mass had ended, an' I went to pray,
glass in the tidegradac, croatia; summer.
it is a town climbed up from the sea:
a salt hymn, an exhalation, a brightly calcified
spray. the houses here are overgrown
as wildflowers, paths like tiny winding veins
sprung alive between them. from my balcony i watch
the sun crest slowly into afternoon,
and mothers lead their children
down stone slopes, arterial pull
to the water. by the shore,
vendors sell bottles of olive oil, salt,
sage, gathering up anything with the taste
of what mystery inhabits the air—brimming over
the glass lips, a curving kind of joy,
the whole earth, a bowl of it.
at night, my uncle drinks beer
and i drink wine. he watches
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More