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'And it was night. For it is always night'

And it was night. For it is always night:
If not on this side, currently in day,
Then somewhere literally half the world away.
And in twelve hours we change places, dark and light, 78 more words

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Sonnet Sunday: "Run More Day"

Achilles the runner, Pheidippides
the marathon’s first participant and
casualty. Wrestler’s strength, swimmer’s high seas
but the runner needs only open land
to practice the craft: breath controlled, posture… 79 more words

Poetry

Sunday Sonnet, #1, 2015

As rain falls down, as winds blow fierce, I try

to think, to write in verse.  But though my thoughts

come forth in torrents, my hand no word ought… 99 more words

Poetry

Deep Inside a Fathom Awaits

How often to choose, to travel inside,

When do the yearnings suggest we comply

There always awaits that worry to slide

Where in moment this world becomes why. 74 more words

Poetry

Sunday Sonnet

She came to me, gracefully almost gliding over grass.

A smile ensconced my mind.

Eyes, as blue as the sea, cliché.

Her heart spoke, what her lips failed to say. 71 more words

Poetry

Do not adore me for my perfections,

Do not adore me for my perfections
©n.e.m

Do not adore me for my perfections,
For I will grow old, wear out as all do; 100 more words