Recycled Bard

I’m taking advantage of NaPo’s sanction to write an erasure and catch up with two! (Again…) This time I’m invoking the poetry of the (Scottish) Bard, Robert Burns, for numbers twenty and twenty-one:

hermitage erasure

thy flaming vale,
evils hold
the lowly shades
of life
and sage man’s Art
must smile and frown
to Vice.

That selfish quiet,
the bed of Night,
shall be clad
in idle pleasures
that devour
the future.

Guard thy past,
and keep thy heart
in view.

lament erasure

Pale pines
beneath a dream
adorn my remembrance,
poetic and tame.

Promised moments
bear lost youth
and sorrows,
hours of hope
and woe
that kiss
the nightly eye.

If slumber brings
thy silver scenes,
I feel again
I’ll wander.


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