Tuesday, October 2, 2012
In Solitary Places Comments
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The hurl and hurry of the winds of March,
That tore the ash and bowed the pine and larch,
Are past and done with: winds, that trampled through
The forests with enormous, scythe-like sweep,
And from the darkening deep,
...
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8/26/2025 2:20:22 AM # 1.0.0
Awesome poem sorry didn't complete read only 1-5 it is a like fench saiy Chefs D'ouevres i really like your writing and style of writing............... Keep it up Guess Who