Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Broken Wings
My precious, little dove
The one I do so much, love;
Not able to take flight
Nor prime for the fight!
Why hath thou forsaken thyself-
You, with broken wings, upon a shelf;
Why for art thou, would you?
Just how, my dear, could you?
Fly now, fast; fly now, far-away from fear,
Leave ghosts-that they be nowhere near!
Protect e'er, our issue, from danger-
So too, from my love, now a stranger!
Recover now drothers, serve now penance-
From this wreckage, may we gain substance!
Maurice Harris,13 May 2008
poem
by
Maurice Harris
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black