Poems

Page

1.

Through the seamles span atop the balcony,
Through the glass untarred by unpassing time,
He endlessly stared beneath into his aging vineyard,
Waiting for his favorite vine to ultimately flourish.

Without a blemish nor a scar it sprouted,
Utterly unbetrayed by its age and woes,
And by its glowing splendour and metier,
It overwhelmed the orchard without trying.

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