The night has a world of heavens
Their discovery widens our sight.
During hedonistic days and nights
Those combine makers? Make hay.
Harvesting - umbrae silence peace
There each pod, each mirrored—
Black-acre holds out a billion…
Marrow-fat peas and here a loin-pig
Sits at the head of a banquet, table.
Pleased its sits, so high, no one!
Can hear an oinking! Or see…
Not even an inch, a whisker of tail.
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Comments about this poem (Loin-pig by Mark Heathcote )
- Roses, Jerusha Melanie
- Circumstances and I, gajanan mishra
- sleep tight in Idaho tonight, Mandolyn ...
- Beauty of the world is ruined, Jerusha Melanie
- Clean and cleanliness, gajanan mishra
- Holding You Tight, Michael McParland
- I'm bored with it all., gulsher JOHN
- A Rich Man, S.R. Riang
- the natural disaster.., veeraiyah subbulakshmi
- Desert Country Ways, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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