Word Farm

A poem

Poetry to the power of three, 
the sun will rise and fall to thee

weaned on folk tales, and oral tradition
soil rich from witch burnings, of old superstition

we shelter beneath the gables and decaying wood
rearing words for tomorrow, so we be better understood. 

© Darius the Mate

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Photo prompt, written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

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