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Man

Things created are works of art, None so beautiful as that of man, He is the crowning glory of creation, From the very moment time began.

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Beaver Pond

Gently we walk the path by beaver pond, amid bracken and brush, we are whirred by Egyptian-like plagues of blue-eyed, winged invertebrates. Not enough to break branch…

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Ox and Straw

Thomas’ classmates snubbed him, judged him on the spot “Dumb Ox” they dubbed him in jest for his taciturn ways But they forgot that quietude is the…

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No Saint

No saint am I. No guardian. No protector. Would that I could follow Anthony into the desert and challenge devils on the town’s behalf. Or Raphael, who…

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Memory

In the morning, I looked through a window and saw my face pressed against a cool pane that was damp on a humid summer day. “Come away…

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Finder of Pebbles

My daughter’s pockets run so deep, And as we walk the well-trod trail With narrow curves and unexpected slopes, Her roving eye and plucking fingers Pick the…

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Domestic Altar

On a cold autumn morning A winter storm was moaning But away indoors there arose a hush Quieting ourselves from the season's rush For Father was then…

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