Category Archives: Line-a-day Poem

One line per day becomes a long poem after a year!

till her eyes close to their light.

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She will kindle love with loss

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for eternity.

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gives her just reason to mourn

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The death of a child

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mourned whether full fair or plain.

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All creatures, worthy of love,

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Her tears bless the earth.

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or real? Her calm tames sorrow.

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This woman: a myth

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A saint, man-made, thus undone.

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lust-red, would taint his palette:

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Brush stroke caresses,

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No man could ever paint her.

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She’s a madonna.

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Only a harsh hush, man-made.

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No songbirds. No Chorus frogs.

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fields without flowers?

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in forests bereft of trees,

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What will children hear

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that churn songs and soft feathers.

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to turn great blades of steel

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that rouse high towers

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Their melodies, lost to winds

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Dead birds cannot sing.

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their heads bowed to melody.

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Wild sheaves sway to its rhythms;

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ripples, rifles them.

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as wind calls to high grasses,

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Hands pull at harp strings,

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