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Poem – The mother of artistic invention

Necessity is the mother of artistic invention. Without pencil paper paint and plight, what is necessary to create, a crying child with hallowed frown upon a mothers holy gown, she lacks a canvas to present,…

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A Poem – Seldom

Seldom gate is swinging slow, beyond the path we seldom see. And should we seldom want to go, The gate swings shut to stoppeth thee. A breeze brings breathlessness to sigh, for we shall seldom…

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