The Long Winter Vigil

Beneath the wooden rafter’s weight And beams with abandoned spider silk, Where hearth once roared with living flame Now but

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The Silence of Love

Love rarely arrives to the sound of trumpets and drums Nor does it storm ashore with the shouts of conquest

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Barter – Why We Trade

Paper bills are just paper now Backed by no one and nothing No vaults of gold or silver bars Worthless

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