Dews on Wasteland by Samuel James

Is there aught so pregnant and potent As the wondrous embodiment of young breasts? Springing forth the green seed of heavy lightness Where harsh winds and storms do quietly rage, Ceasing when some queer calmness speaks peace In cheerful hours of hale and hearty company. Like dews which on wastelands drop at morn Their spirits … Continue reading Dews on Wasteland by Samuel James