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The Poetical Offering A Mouthful of Verses by Lou Stooth

I. If anything you read here seems just bad or poorly written, Remember, please, Im no John Keats, Robert Frost or Herrick I only wish to share with her with whom Im wildly smitten The secret of my adoration, and then become her Eric. II. Please, bear in mind, if any rhymes within this book

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Grave Tintinnabulations

May those who scorn this rickety hearse. Of ghastly verses be compelled,. By blackest magick blackly spelled,. To read it nightly, verse by verse,. And each time find its contents worse. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. Notify me of new comments via email. Suite in a Minor Key.

The Druidic Garden Poetry for St. Patricks Day by Sam Hain

There once was a he-man named Donna. He spanked it and dirked it. And yanked it and jerked it. While reading The Gods of Pegāna. There once was a shaman named Muckt Who tickled teased probed blew and sucked The mind universal In a role-play reversal, Becoming both fucker and fucked.

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The Poetical Offering A Mouthful of Verses by Lou Stooth

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I. If anything you read here seems just bad or poorly written, Remember, please, Im no John Keats, Robert Frost or Herrick I only wish to share with her with whom Im wildly smitten The secret of my adoration, and then become her Eric. II. Please, bear in mind, if any rhymes within this book

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The site had the following in the homepage, "A Mouthful of Verses by Lou Stooth." I noticed that the web site stated " Apologies for The Poetical Offering." They also stated " The Birds and the Butterflies. For Mother, On Her Birthday. The Greatest Book Ever Written! The Rabbits Foot."

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The coal in your stocking, The rust on your sleigh, The rocking chair rocking, Then breaking away, Are all of them better Than anything here In this big scarlet letter Of sick Christmas cheer. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account.

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The Druidic Garden Poetry for St. Patricks Day by Sam Hain

There once was a he-man named Donna. He spanked it and dirked it. And yanked it and jerked it. While reading The Gods of Pegāna. There once was a shaman named Muckt Who tickled teased probed blew and sucked The mind universal In a role-play reversal, Becoming both fucker and fucked.