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Winter's Blood

Nature's dust, Caking softly white Silver rust, Upon globes of grapes. Protective, Wit' her moon powder, of Autumn's gift: Her purple sugar. Aching heart! Poison'd blue & red, Nature's blood, Seal'd in winter's grape. Hide away here her endless vine, Her infinite potion of crimson wine.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 11/6/2013 2:50:00 PM
There is a lot said in this little gem, Welsonn. You go from "Caking softly white" to "Poison'd blue & red" with diversions to titillate the readers senses. I thoroughly enjoyed this one.
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Welsonn Goh
Date: 11/6/2013 3:05:00 PM
Glad you enjoyed it Jerry. Will work hard on th next one. Much to learn.