EBB.AND.FLOW'S POEM'S, SONNET'S, & LYRICAL BALLADS: SLEUTHS

Sunday, November 16, 2003

SLEUTHS

Centered on the page is a title left to say just what it is not certain—that’s for sure— about the poem left in question; pure speculation is what we have today, aided and abetted by the shades of grey, meanings left as vague as an untried cure, as clearly worded as they are obscure, as rich in... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ebb.and.Flow at 9:27 PM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
November 2003
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About this Blog

Alongside our routes and roundabout ways we meander and sometimes philander but rare is the one who can not say these verses are anything less than fodder fodder for spirit and soul and wit and wanton wild wordplay sometimes fickle, sometimes fit; in song that won't wage less than almighty war on the villainous gluttons for greed and for gore; those vile ones whose foreplay on web sites and film creates quite a stir as it crosses the chasm to the cliffs of regret and the lakes of remorse where the charms of God's Spirit run like a course. Taste of this fine wine it's stored here for you; if the vintage is hearty, then the future is true.

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