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Nude art to prude art

Prose that arose

Verse and worse

For the wall in your hall

Fresh from the press

The start of the art

   
Art home

Winter Beach

Where gullible waves follow to their shore death,
encrusted dunes dissolve on salted breath.
Where tree hulls lie disembarked,
their ghostly presence only marked
by graveside spikes of tufted grass;
as epitaphs to futures past.
And reminiscent air of aniseed
reminds the haunting crow to feed
on memories, in soul-less shells of summer.