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Sonnet 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: 363 more words

Happy "Birth" Day

“Winter seemed reluctant to release
its hold”, and yet his sister, Spring, crept near,
A quickening within, imbued a calming peace,
I teetered on the brink; embraced my fear.

123 more words

Des mots sur du sable

Une oeuvre poétique est souvent éphémère,
Et bientôt clairsemée la foule qui la suit.
Comme vers les lointains, l’hirondelle s’enfuit ;
Comme, vers nulle part, s’éloigne la chimère. 91 more words


Fifteen. It Doesn't Want a Title.

I saw a florgen escashistor smind,
Outstretched upon a griggèd pondit groo.
But why the hurda fentith schlingies guind,
Is something full of trodeth minet hoo. 69 more words


Sonnet IV: Sandcastles

Is there a way that might I ache yet more?
For, missing thee is more than can I stand;
Yet also, do I ache by my own hand… 103 more words


Into 4: Sandstorm

If I let it go
Would the wind blow it away?
If I let it go….


Tell me about the lambs. I want to know
what it’s like to slaughter something like me,
to cut a beautiful and trusting throat
because that is something I would not do, 85 more words