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Dead Men's Doodles
Selected Works
Writing
Portfolio
About
Dead Men's Doodles
Selected Works
Writing
Portfolio
About
Selected Works
Writing
Portfolio
About

Brett Walsh © 2023

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Of his bones are coral made; | Those are pearls that were his eyes; | Nothing of him that doth fade | But doth suffer a sea-change | Into something rich and strange.

***

like a little yellow vixen | caught by her throat in a snare, | writhing like a flame | of pale yellow fire -

***

Your eyes, where nothing is revealed, | The bitter nor the sweet, | Are two cold stones, in which the tinctures | Gold and iron meet.

***

...gone is the armour of power that formerly protected their naked souls; nothing, no shield, stands between them and tears.

***

Of his bones are coral made; | Those are pearls that were his eyes; | Nothing of him that doth fade | But doth suffer a sea-change | Into something rich and strange. *** like a little yellow vixen | caught by her throat in a snare, | writhing like a flame | of pale yellow fire - *** Your eyes, where nothing is revealed, | The bitter nor the sweet, | Are two cold stones, in which the tinctures | Gold and iron meet. *** ...gone is the armour of power that formerly protected their naked souls; nothing, no shield, stands between them and tears. *** Of his bones are coral made; | Those are pearls that were his eyes; | Nothing of him that doth fade | But doth suffer a sea-change | Into something rich and strange. *** like a little yellow vixen | caught by her throat in a snare, | writhing like a flame | of pale yellow fire - *** Your eyes, where nothing is revealed, | The bitter nor the sweet, | Are two cold stones, in which the tinctures | Gold and iron meet. *** ...gone is the armour of power that formerly protected their naked souls; nothing, no shield, stands between them and tears. ***