the



a sloop was loitering
in the gloom like some gigantic
monster ready to be
done

to
turn and fly was now bustle

and

hubbub in the air the bark
of the unfortunate major andre was
taken and which may even be
heard in a

grove of
tall walnuttrees that shades one
side of the

stories however turned upon the funds
of rustic waggery in his day
if

we
may judge from the hillside
the boding cry of the sager
folks who with old v an
tassel sat
smoking at one end and a
door
left ajar gave him
a
peep into
the brook and
was obliged to get on with

my
story




(C) 2026 Shane Cooper


follow links in the poem, or start new path...