Consequences

Living mother, lord of all, with beauteous even’ tides,

Garden of our ancestors, in loving care abide.

A curious child, unwitting, stands at the stormy gate;

Prods, provokes and challenges, but understands too late

That Time, oh precious little time, will beat no last retreat,

As earthly mother, lord of all, rumbles at his feet.

October Gale on the UP

October Gale on the UP

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