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The Paradisio Poet's Pen
My life was scratched
by the Paradisio poet's abstracted pen,
it was fumbled and fretted,
fallen by a sinner's slighted whim
onto paper or parchment, papyrus thin,
the archaic words written for a summer's wind,
were lost and found again in wintter's icy din.
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Comments
Windsong Says:
Wow. That's amazing.
I like it, very well done.