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Still

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  The novice nun waits still, a candle flame. The flame burns still.  These three are still; no, not The column only, white, avoiding shame. A dusk of autumn fills her with...

Pigs Would Fly if Their Sties Were Noble

Pigs Would Fly if Their Sties Were Noble Poor Socrates.  He thought that if the young Were wrapped in images of beauty, they Would take good in and then could climb each rung Of rightness.  Lovelinesses would convey Them up and straight to healthiness of soul. Their...