Resultado da Busca
Há 3 dias · Man in the day or wine at night. Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy. Once in this time wine the summer blood. Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine, Once in this bread. The oat was merry in the wind; Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down. This flesh you break, this blood you let. Make desolation in the vein,
Há 1 dia · Clown In The Moon. My tears are like the quiet drift. Of petals from some magic rose; And all my grief flows from the rift. Of unremembered skies and snows. I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.
12 de mai. de 2024 · Recent Interactions* This poem was read 143 times, This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members, This poem was voted by 0 members. (* Interactions only in the last 7 days)
Há 6 dias · The force that through the green fuse drives the flower. Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees. Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose. My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks. Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams.
16 de mai. de 2024 · Fern Hill. lilting house and happy as the grass was green, The night above the dingle starry, Time let me hail and climb. Golden in the heydays of his eyes, And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns. And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves. Trail with daisies and barley.
Há 5 dias · The bedrooms at Dylan Coastal Resort. This three-bedroom Milk Wood Lodge had two double rooms at each end of the building, as well as a twin room set behind the double. We took the master bedroom, which had an en-suite bathroom with a shower, while my mum opted for the double room at the other end of the lodge.
16 de mai. de 2024 · And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed. Whoever I would with my wicked eyes, The whole of the moon I could love and leave. All the green leaved little weddings' wives. In the coal black bush and let them grieve. When I was a gusty man and a half. And the black beast of the beetles' pews. (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of bitches), Not a boy and a ...
