Writing
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The Little Black Boy by William Blake : The Poetry Foundation
My mother bore me in the southern wild, / And I am black, but O! my soul is white; / White as an angel is the English child: / But I am black as if bereav’d of light. Continued… My mother taught me underneath a tree And sitting down before the heat of day, She Read more
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The Wonder Wall
Every season takes its course traveling down the gift of fall. The wondrous seasons Bloom each giving and taking in its own demand. Each classic tale rejoices in to each their own delight the sound whispers in the evenings flight. Passing sun in depths doesth tho’ go away from your glorious luminosity into the deep Read more
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Entangled Delight
The moment you live and read between the lines you know you are awakened. Yes, the wonder of all those beautiful fancy words ignites the soul. I took my hand and raised it against you. We touched. The world seemed so lonely until you entered into my presence. Love envelops my soul until I burst Read more