The Old Stone Church

The Old Stone Church

A Poem by the wretched

Within a copse of bristled pines,

Sleeping 'neath blankets of white,

An echo of another time,

Fell within my wandering sight.

Though drear against the landscape bleak,

The grey of stone, and gothic spire,

Of times long passed, I hear them speak,

And cannot help, but to admire.

© 2009 the wretched


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Nicely done. Thank you for your entry
into Picture Poem This (12)

Posted 15 Years Ago


You have a beautiful gift for painting beautiful pictures with words. I like the way this piece tells a beautiful story. There is also a feeling of mysteriousness about the story found within this poem.

Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on January 10, 2009

Author

the wretched
the wretched

nowareham, MA



About
the most important thing to know about me is that at any given time, you could be dealing with someone else. I am an artist of multiple facets. Writing is one of many things i do as an art, and certa.. more..

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A Poem by the wretched