Court Of The Red Queen
Some days she speaks talking backwardsEven as it all goes forward, oh well
Castles folding into cardboards
Enclosing silence no one knows the spell
Once I had a thought which now escapes me
When put into words it all sounds rather tame
Some nights she lights trees for candles
Growing so small as possibly may be
Beginning to fit upon the chessboard game
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-03-02 at 16:59
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