Friday, May 29, 2009

My Poetry Comments

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“Poetry, ” they say, “is for the aching heart like lightning for haunted clouds, ”
Each word resembling a brilliant, unique line, which exposes the dark of the world’s roof,
Clouds, the souls of the sky, aching wordlessly, in mystery the soul is shroud,
Each sentence like a deep rumbling, it’s origin in heaven’s core, hear it move.
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Chantal Lammerts
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