Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Monday, 21 June 2010

Bale

Only now are they in summer of their scions' future sure
while waiting for the reaper's fire and brimstone'd distant roar
With their newborn in the crib they briefly see the light of day
Then rejoin the wheel of life in her great golden wheel of hay
Posted by Philip Damian-Grint at 18:31
 
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