Cynghanedd In Blank-Verse
Th’waste rain-fall flows, fitfully free, unto sea o’er reams of language earth-born.
Tag: blank verse
Hymn To The City Of The Sceptre
Your wealth extends to awe all foreign lands! Your pious worship deeply pleases all our divine hosts, who bless our lives with Ma’at!
Some Blank Verse, In Which I Indirectly State That The Sunlight Fills The Room
Now mourned’s the passing peace of night, its flight flown with the scorching licks of star-fire at its torn ‘n frayed heels.
william altoft 