Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Rhyme-6 Comments

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Western clouds set the crimson tent for suns rest,
Lonely eve pulls sighing curtain of losing day,
Foggy stillness steals the last field green
In hasty strides for another lonely night.
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shuvo chakraborty
COMMENTS
Colleen Courtney 18 June 2014

Unlike Rhyme 7 and 8, this one I can make sense of. You've created beautiful imagery with each line of this poem. Nicely done!

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