— within this eternal night's embrace, lies a world shrouded in mystery and grace, where whispered secrets softly resound, and hidden wonders are waiting to be found.

In death’s embrace, the lovers found their rest, a tragic fold within verona’s tale.

Through the veil of ebony hue, i wander, seeking something new, in the depths of this timeless domain, a symphony of silence, a haunting refrain.

With laughter and tears, we forge bonds that endure, love’s tapestry woven, pure and.

The birds are silent in their nest.

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Read the full text of “the sound of the trees”

My tongue, every atom of.

Just love, pure love, cutting through strife like knife.

This creates the “sound of the trees. ”.

By dan higgins 2024.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.

This poem describes the wind blowing through the trees.

An ode to love that passed the grievous test,

The wind forces the trees to sway from side to side and rustles their leaves.

In my stars i am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness.

Let thy blood and spirit embrace them.

I loafe and invite my soul, i lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

The moon, like a flower in heaven's high bower, with silent delight sits and smiles on the night.

Oh, solemn oath, oh, pledge without the sun, in silence deep, two destinies were spun.

[reads] “if this fall into thy hand, revolve.

Thy fates open their hands.

Written to mourn the death of shelley’s fellow romantic poet john keats, adonais is widely considered one of shelley’s greatest poems.

— through love’s sweet embrace, we find solace and grace, a sanctuary of souls, an embrace we embrace.

The sun descending in the west, the evening star does shine;

And i must seek for mine.

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Through these personified trees, the poem explores the conflict between people's desire to set off and make new lives for themselves and their inability (or refusal) to actually leave their familiar worlds behind.

Track 2 on adonais.

And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear.

The veil of sorrow.

I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what i assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

‘the twilight turns from amethyst’ by james joyce observes a quietly intimate scene fixated on a solitary woman playing the piano at twilight.