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type of poetry

braided and woven
it tells of good old times
the earth keeps some vibration going
days endeared to every muse
the snow whispers about me
day is done
the old west, the old time
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
my true love from her pillow rose
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
have you not heard
pushing out, struggling vainly
i had over-prepared the event
some one complained to the master

 



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