How Green Is My Valley Poem by Dog goD 8Hate

How Green Is My Valley



The town has forthright style to they clear in view;
I've seen elephants and giraffes where others see mere
dogs, or even, just cats.

My old houses are recent antiquity and only
a hundred-and-fifty-years-old.
Current creations are old before they start and...
I'll remove them in due time.

Most know Henry Hobson Richardson as eminent 19th-century
and that his characterizations much-set the tone.
Study at the Ames library in North Eaton, Ma., epiphanies occur.

Some have pondered at Harvard's Sever Hall and felt the 1880s...
Allegheny County's jail (he) wrought for me as I was the only one
there who knew...several times.

I'm not one to pan for gold and yet...
I pan for literature's credentials and find iron-E;
some can glean gold this way and boost their boast.

If I happen upon a strike, I'll reward the more amiable.
Oh yes, obscurity won't go to my head, I'll remain
true-to-the-end...the end of that road that dead-end's at start...

That translates recompense for trodden exponents
and a house on the hill; I'll even build a barn for your saw horse
so you can drill your skill...
I ride a black one with waxed sad-ill - lugubrious equestrian.

Ironically, that horse has learned to pull a chair-iot and...
where I sit in repose.

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Dog goD 8Hate

Dog goD 8Hate

Grass Valley, Ca.
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