A Whaling Reel
Swans and Unicorns dance across checkerboards
Paper weight Candle holders flicker shadows on a globe
Paving block whaling ships sail into the dusk
Trailing anchors of days when all seemed lost
While Heaven cries a fresh host of thunderbolts,
The hidden door is set to spring it's trap maybe soon
The world will find a way to stop, all this spin
Is repetitious but there is a place but then again
There is so much to say way beyond words.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-01-29 at 00:04
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