LYRIC FOR SALE

By Marlowe Wood

I Got Glass in My Finger Marlowe Wood

Withering hardly spoke again
As a folk remedy
The day we sweep away ignorance
The Quaker Doctor Letson

Ill-considered act of paternal love
Gold medal for brilliance
Until Charles lost his lover
Or grand risky theories

Mark of civilized women and men
We walked the moors to Dovedale
He looks attentive, but his eyes are sad
From their voluntary testimony and ideas

What wind blew refutable Rock to the universe
Nay, forsooth, my friends, for alas, our stars
For goodness' sake, consider what to do
The blue devils take flight at once