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why yes, i *do* like the sound of my own voice
lucypevensie
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September 2009
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why yes, i *do* like the sound of my own voice [userpic]
Ah, poetry! - to say in many words that which need not be said at all.

Now the wind moans through the chinks in my storm window;
now do the green brown gold leaves fall.
Now the ground is damp with the cold showers of Autumn;
now a hush is over all.
Some Octobers come in blazing with orange leaves and sunny days.
This one, it creeps, bids me rest calm.
I reach for my umbrella and wrap myself in sweatshirts -
Cold Octobers are my favorite months of all.