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Pluck

The Earths end, sky, sea, pumice stone, windward, lee; life grasp, grey, alpine scree, Christian Church Burren be. Pillars, lentils, altar stone; plucked from ancient giants bone; life, minute, crevice formed foam; Eire’s core, St. Patrick’s home. Distilled essence, brightest note; sweetest scent, verse by rote; brilliant rainbows, oceanic motes, Gallic laughter, limericks denote. The Earths end, sky, sea, Ireland, pearl in oyster be. Grit, heart, joy and constancy. Sorrowful soulful memory.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 3/1/2009 9:41:00 AM
Deborah, what powerful images you share in this great poem! I love the way you sum it up in your last line. Love, Carolyn
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Date: 2/25/2009 1:33:00 PM
This is a lovely piece! Anything which mentions Ireland speaks volumes to me. Cheers!
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Date: 2/24/2009 6:54:00 AM
Beautiful visuals, Debbie. Your magic pen strikes again, my poetic friend! Love Ya
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Date: 2/23/2009 5:52:00 PM
beautiful,fluid. Really nice, I tend not to enjoy poems of this subject, somewhat sappy but my goodness you can hear the ocean and smell the green of Ireland. keep writting
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Date: 2/23/2009 2:05:00 PM
I just love your writing :)
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Book: Shattered Sighs