Uncloistered

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  “She gazed ahead through a long reach of future days strung together like pearls in a rosary, every one like the others, and all smooth and flawless and innocent, and her heart went up in thankfulness. Outside was the fervid summer afternoon; the air was filled with the sounds of the busy harvest of men and birds and bees; there were halloos, metallic clatterings, sweet calls, and long hummings. Louisa sat, prayerfully numbering her days, like an uncloistered nun.” A New England Nun By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1852–1930)

An Original Poem


In the stain glass village by the stain glass sea;

Up the stain glass steps beyond the stain glass tree, 

The stain glass stoa by the stain glass tower

Under stain glass sky with a stain glass glour, 

Glistens in the gloaming for a stain glass hour.


The stain glass fishers from the stain glass shore

And the stain glass merchant from his stain glass store

With the stain glass cobbler wearing stain glass shoes

in the stain glass pub gossip stain glass news.

When the stain glass sun sets in a low’ring creep, 

The stain glass village nestles for a stain glass sleep.

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