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Bolted Napkin Poem
Brown, terrifying, evoking horror.
It sleeps for winter: windless plus serene.
Eminently powerful explorer,
Now juddered in its reflective routine.
Winter’s wild violence ends—spring does chime;
ferocity dwindles, some circumvent.
The cold soldier concludes its trimonth prime.
From it, the brown furry does supplement .
It’s Melursus Ursinus, so you see.
Spring is discernible in this fixture,
Yet the evil monster lurks, winter’s free.
Flowers plus evil combined in mixture:
Virtue with vile, well known rugged tension
Good mixed with evil, whole there’s to mention
Copyright © Bolted Napkin | Year Posted 2024
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Bolted Napkin Poem
The steep was ever silent on that night.
The tree wept like it always did at night.
All seemed normal to a layman,
Never had trouble ever came in
But still the demons stirred and had their fun
For the wind was ever cold and thick as none.
"I don't belong here," the willow told the lord.
The sky then turned to thunder
After those evil words had been uttered,
Legend says it was deja vu,
But only the silence ever knew;
But no one knew the silence:
And on that lonely steep it stood
Nothing but wonder ever could
And if it breaks—oh how it would
My love would break, ever should.
Copyright © Bolted Napkin | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Bolted Napkin Poem
I planted a tree of love
Grew so high it could house the doves.
Nevertheless, I was astounded,
how my ego has been dumbfounded,
And even then its growth put me at solace.
My happiness grew with the tree:
And on that lonely steep it stood
Nothing but wonder ever could
And if it breaks—oh how it would
My love would break, ever should.
Copyright © Bolted Napkin | Year Posted 2024
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