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A Confluence of Mere Cabals
at the niger chambers where a pensive-calm
dwells amid nature and the hill-top lads
– the mouth-piece of the serene clan! –
where as many a lonely weaver she stands
o, where the now-weird homestead stands
– the epitome of native caves and mounts! –
’tis like a confluence of cabals that clenches
our world, a new world deep in the forests;
aloft of the ancient world of weavers and eaglets
an ancient world of the mother of the amazons –
there! we wait! the microcosm of new maidens!
– the new mouth-piece of a new serene clan! –
a confluence of mere cabals clench’ng our clan;
o, drum for these lonely weavers of the forests!
Copyright ©
Canny Amah
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