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Poems and prose for various contests over the course of the decade. |
| My well's run dry, I cannot write It's time to head out, get fresh air Gather images tumbling in sight Take my senses to the autumn fair. Walk amid the happy people Taste the glory of fresh apple pie Hear bells from the old church steeple Relax, let go and give a sigh. 8 lines rhyming pattern = abab Notes ▶︎ ![]() ![]() ![]() |