Sonnet: Lost Tradition

White-clad cottages, stand like dominoes Each one integral, each one unique The land they stand on archaic, antique Their owners tend to the cattle who low,   In the communal fields shared down below The seeds of grass, stolen by a crow’s beak Returning to a nest over a creek, Does little to the fields. …

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Free Verse: Promise The Devil

Readily I accept my place, In this world, or the next. Wherever I may find myself, I must try to find where I am, Where I am the truest version of myself.   The Devil will tempt you, With that which you will take, As is your choice As is your freedom to choose. The …

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