WhollyA Poem by Dalton
Blessed are the frill-less mattes:
a shrine of canvassed stone, whose round parts are their flats - the warmth of brush and bone. What good is there to waltz with a willow laced in brass? Harlequins of hot bronze dance in the shining grass. Platinum plating glows The steel starts to emancipate. This, I know: All dulls, will time sufffice fate. I once adorned the polishing of such, copper painted gold; never so clear as quartz was folly before so bold. © 2016 DaltonFeatured Review
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