When the winds of time, Their narrow blow,
In tunnels of the world, on grounds below
Begins her dance, a freezing breeze.
Puts cold in what and is believed,
Of any other sort of sound,
Blowing in the ears of nature bound.
Awoke The earth on this still morn.
And stormed eternal in its form.
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Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: January 7th, 2025 05:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
Comments2
The winds of time donβt hibernate or migrate in the winter- a revelatory thought courtesy of your engaging poem! ππ»πππ»
I agree. Lol. Winter has no bounds.
Cheers ππ»πππ»
Nature free to do as it pleases, enjoyed the read
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