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The English barred us in that yesterday

and took the shelter of the field away

 

We gave it up with jealous wonting ever

and vowed return in some unseen December

 

But as the years went swiftly by

we raised a glass in silent cry

 

For corral fields and rampart skies

New songs unsung and well told lies

 

Bring back the laughter and embraces

Which gather strangers to those places

 

Quick to friendship and romances

Brimmed with laughter and stolen glances

 

Riots brewed by auctioneers

In tents full filled with privateers

 

Another Solstice come and gone

No song, no words, no fort anon

 

- William Brand

"That December Fort"

February 20, 2023

 

 

 

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  • 6 months later...

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