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Breath of the Informer an Allegory

Remorseful, the noonday sun
Frizzles with the stealthy wind
Under the rubbery mountain green.
A calmness has come to rest From having tossed in its sleep.
The forest has taken leave Of the hunted horn and drum.
No more the tapper late of nap Scurries to the haven of a nest.
No more the rattle whisper fades To nothingness in a lonesome rest.
No more, no more, for the heavens Sleep and all the troops sleep too.
The sinewy python stretched past Clumsily the ragged rock and branch.
The Owl has called its reveille at last.
And the forest sleeps with the wind Gently fanning some whisper closer And closer, every wave, a venomous flick Of a serpent, a kiss of rest.

Poem by T Wignesan
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