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Sunday, March 17, 2013

Wayward Words






I’m at my desk, the page is bare.

No reason nor rhyme for words to appear.

I’ve asked them all: ‘Come out and play’
They’ve said to me: 'Some other day.’

Epilepsy sits and never leaves
but words have flown upon the breeze!




“Our words have wings, but fly not where we would.”
~ George Eliot

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