Blackout Poetry II

The Redheaded Wonderblog

Been working more pieces for the series of blackout poems using pages chosen at random by friends from a book of English poetry and prose, c. 1917.


To the race of men,  be mindful:
The glory of kings was first found in the mansion of God.


A lovely grace
Whispered thy dream.
Sleep! Sleep!
Fair lady,
For at dawn
The lady is gone
Like a summer rain.


I confess, friend,
There was nothing left for me.

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