Advent Vi - Poem by Eric Ratcliffe
Earth-fainting but rising, returned to the light
through greenleaf arcadia, the gaunt elder guard
knew the first stories of the two-legged wanderers
by the scent of the firehills, in the air of the kingdoms.
By every late leaf of an old summer's autumn
there were always the children, in hope and glory,
always the children, rosettes of their days.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye