Nona's Poetry Corner

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. (W.B. Yeats) Here lies that which is inside no more, that which burns my mind and must be expelled. Here lies the greatest of all inventions. Here lies words.

Showing posts with label rural. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rural. Show all posts
Monday, May 11, 2020

Visiting

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11/05/2020 - Iso Well-Being Compilation   Won’t you stop here for a moment? Where the air feels very raw; Where every breath feels...
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Nona Rose
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