The Night is mother of the Day,
The Winter of the Spring,
And ever upon old Decay
The greenest mosses cling.

John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)
A Dream of Summer, stanza 4

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

The Candle (Unpublished Poem)

In the dark of
the candle's glow,
I contemplate my
cerebral imperfections,
and minor thoughts
become creative moments.

~ Paul 'The Mystic Fool' Ingrassia

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