In a snowy world, in a silent place,
by a set of trees, near the river Grace,
Came a mist and a cloud on winter morn,
where the silence is raised and the question, born.
Though the truth is sought by both cloud and mist,
and soul grows long through each bend and twist,
There's a way to keep smiling, yet hide your face,
In a snowy world, in a silent place
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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