*
To one kneeling down no word came
Only the wind’s song, saddening the lips
Only the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings
Bats not angels, in the high roof…
R.S. Thomas
*
*
To one kneeling down no word came
Only the wind’s song, saddening the lips
Only the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings
Bats not angels, in the high roof…
R.S. Thomas
*
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Reblogged this on Ed;s Site..
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Interesting words, Stuart.
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