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Erin Shore

She stays on the dock with St. Peter’s dream
Marching for Jews and for Italian fear
Long away the Constitution
That heard her faint in fear
There is the other, the void unfrozen and alone
All things aseen to the first Major rise
And leading his horses on
Why to make trouble for this new grow of men
In solace and lonely she gets by
Appeasing the woman to see her redemption
It is August and no more unmooned
To feather this witness and to borrow untuned
Seeing ladder after sun and good feel
With a rising touch deep,
she is magic and listen
For the Lord to have learned of her keep

A mayhem of good and a simple attraction
The servant was errant but good
In stride growing freely
And to Andrew her son,
This is solemn and offering true
And often supposing, the web of St. Winter
The ‘greements of Nathan in verse
A spirit of water, and to make way amend
A castle for glory, for tune
If I miss a second, her year will be unmine
At Providence and peaceful re-une
To currents in the water
And lilies redoubt
There is prayer for these soles at the heath
And maybe Len Erin will run to the forest
Thinking hours and women, and wreath