Nov 21, 2013, 7:46 PM

The Garden Screened 

  Poetry » Landscape
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When the clock strikes the midnight hour
And the flock of ravens sours the hiss
The winter's... poor enough to falter
The ghosts... that reminisce!
***
It is somehow beautiful... to see
How easy... Every snowflake... flees... Away
To Screen on every branch and tree
To make us See... the reall things! This beauty...
***
When the fog comes to hover, for us to fool
And the mud is gone beneath the looded ice ...

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