Make way, make way,
You thwarting stones;
Room for my play,
Serious ones.
...
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Crumble, crumble, Voiceless things; No faith can last That never sings. very fine thought. tony
A well rhyming, smoothly flowing beautiful poem. Enjoyed. 'And when my singing Has razed your quite, I shall have lost Half my delight.'.. is so nice. Thanks for sharing.
Nice poem!