roslyn ross - small stones and other poems
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
The land in rolling purples,
is crimped and sprinkled forth,
as brown and pinks are tumbled,
on earth's full ancient face.
From high to low and back again,
the soil in shuddered joy,
gives birth to endless destiny,
of Scotland's floral grace.
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October 27, 2011 at 5:39 AM
I think I would like Scotland...
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