Poems from CH

Everyday must be its own
A fool's breath Sold his gold For muddled copper pennies More common than Fool's gold.
He hath beseeched thee to lay thy gaze elsewhere to directeth thy passion away from his mortal body.   He asketh thee to love his divinity...
Hypnos, thou art a bitter wench.   Thee maketh a barb of mine own soft tongue Sharpen mine wit to a piercing point Injecteth scorn into...
Can you wait for me if tomorrow I'm not there yet   Would you wait for me even as others decline to stay   Will you wait for me if I ask...
I am an adventurer Love, I cannot promise you a minute of my volatile time.   I have no home to call my own no hearth to place my fire Love...

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