by Virginia Alfieri Greene of Dunnville EastwardIn the wildish seaLies tuckedUpon a pine clad hillThe ashes ofMy love FlashingThe white horses runAnd smashAgainst boulders of oldThe sentries ofThe isle FrigidBlow the eastern windsThe throesOf deepest DecemberBreathe cold uponHis grave MemoriesPhotographs and dreamsSleep stillOf summer meadowsThe sweet taste ofHis kiss ShadowsMingled sun and stormLie tangledAmidst rocks and firsThe perfumed airOur island…
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