And enormously and suspiciously the stuff shrunk.
O please do not predict thusly,
Vex the interesting.
As living art thine, my calculating snow
And through the planet the poet forgets by
Began PATIENTLY to read and read, saying:
“O let not ‘wax’ pull you,”
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on July 13, 2011 at 1:59 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0.
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