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WHOSE WILL BE DONE?

Between the blades of dewy grass Mingle the particles of fresh dust Their colour bleached to grey. A bird descends and pecks for food, Finding nothing it ascends today Climbs higher than the trees, away. Weeks go by without a soul Tending the ever growing grass. I chose that tranquil spot For them to be blended in the soil That many years before received The bleached grey dust of her lover. The years will effectively combine Them in the soils embrace and then She will be lost, untraceable, Indistinguishable, shall become one. My parent's will be done. © Allen Ansell 2025

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 3/4/2025 1:07:00 PM
wowza.....death totals many into all sorts of a full-loss-of-fees that they might enter and get a good seat?...... : ) len
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Allen Ansell
Date: 3/7/2025 9:29:00 AM
Hi. I appreciate your comment. Thank you for taking the time to let me know your thoughts on 'Whose Will Be Done?' Blessings, Allen

Book: Reflection on the Important Things