I wish I'd lain beneath the tree.
Michael Bowman Poetry
Wednesday, 16 August 2017
Monday, 14 August 2017
Angels
The sun with passion burning bright
The moon, her hair as dark as night
The purest tune, the words so clear.
The moon, her hair as dark as night
The purest tune, the words so clear.
Saturday, 29 July 2017
Tuesday, 25 July 2017
Wednesday, 5 July 2017
Thursday, 15 June 2017
Tuesday, 6 June 2017
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