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Wrote this a while back. Just thought I'd dust it off.
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A slender tree, vertical as noonstands alone to the left of the lake.It is quite beautiful; and close upthe resin swells, live amber glows,beckoning m..
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He sits hunched over his workbench.At first glance, he is old;sinew and bone, skin like leather,but his hands are deft,those of a much younger man.Mom..
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Time stored all, but kept its council.Wrote no history of our creation,but chronicled instead,the ancient forests,the ceaseless oceans.Aeons passed, e..
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There is a plumpness in the air, that sayswe never lack two Sundays in a week; and thereis the surety of God's acre stretching greenly.An unspoken sus..
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written after an Autumn visit to Dôl Idris; a most beautiful place.
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Beyond the scent of first beinglies the dreamers journey,cobbled streets of imagination,where youth rises, celebratingthe passing of innocence andbuil..
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There was an old, rather cracked flower pot in the back garden,I noticed it as we settled down for a nice cup of tea;(served in fine bone china natura..
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An old man passed me in the high street,he was uneven in both gait and expression.I gazed steadfastly at the dress in the window,guiltily unwilling to..
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It was only base metal and paste,polished, if slightly scratched glass,but the look in his eyes saidthat to him, it was pure goldwith a diamond bright..
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