Voice Box Poem by james watkin
Voice Box
When this voice box I do open
A quivering key having turned
Of no pretensions sprung, is gathered
In air a muddle, wished returned
Of those who, pretty assemblages
Of words were assured I bind!
Of speech, like glittering streamers
They were expected to find.
Sunday, October 6, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: voice
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5/18/2024 11:31:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
