Just go tell them, they who speak
of eyes so blind her nightlong love,
ah, too deep for woe upon the sand dunes;
some such leaves of book in autumn
that by the west-wind
are lowly laid at thy feet in worn-out time,
of untread places far-off beyond the sunrise,
that day of unaltered eye to a close afraid,
of shipwrecked dreams this world beside:
that crow's quill of drifting dream amiss,
ye know not, nor ye need to know;
where all doors are shut but thy door
in rosemary garden,
cowslip her parted hair some dark to illumine
of paradisaical injunctions in haystack of woods,
oft makes me wonder at thy golden brow.
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All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Monday, August 17,2015 2: 36: 55 PM
* Fodder: black, brown, white: OIO: eats a move and the timeline
Om shanti "X" Tree
* Sparmania africana: Uran Khatola
* OPD: optical path Difference: Not the story as such, but the characters are more interesting