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The Sonnette — Moon Madness

As golden orb meets darkened waves Up creeps the moon on backs of pine And frosted disc freeze cold greased minds A madness reigns – moonshadow's slaves * Until the rose, each morning comes Warm as a mouth with skin that shines A madness flees with each new sun.   Paul Szlosek at Paul's Poetry… Continue reading The Sonnette — Moon Madness