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Her beauteous curls were raven black; though rugged
and dim was onward track. She ran upon platform of
the wind; in swathes of dun and glaucous clad. Svelte
roseate lips fluttered apace; like a rocket sled swift on
rails. Thus heart began to thump and race; while love
bloomed round on morning train.

With smiles exchanged a moment rare; her world was
but a trembling flare. “Oh turn the wheel as one turns
a page; then let me breathe thus parting prayer. I am a
fool so much in love to care; with hope tinged on trails
of Lancashire.” She spoke in tones sedate with age.

Through the whistling sleet and snow;
Scrawled memoirs lovesome long ago.



Photo credits:

Posted for Poetics @ dVerse Pub


16 thoughts on “Lancashire

    • Sanaa says:

      Hello Blogoratti,

      Thanks for stopping by, so glad you liked it 🙂
      Highly appreciated, have a great week ahead.

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