"De Profundis clamo ad te, Domineā
From the Depths, you cry out;
Ears only to be met
by roaring waves - Thunderous tumult.
Death, may come.
It comes to all of us.
To some, it comes earlier. But it comes.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
The Father inspecting his commune
Father Murray-Thriepland taking a walk on a lovely Summer morning in Norfolk. (Ex Terra Firma 2003)
Some would say I'm a health-freak and a pseudo sports enthusiast wannabe. Others who think they know me say my poetry doesn't seem 'me'. I'll let you decide.
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