Blossoming Paws

Life has its own rhythms, its own cadence, its own poetic beat. It could be Larkin, it could be Whitman, we may go Shakespearean or find the Albion of William Blake. We might discover tranquillity or dazzlingly riotous splendour or find life monotonous and an utter bore. We can lose ourselves in its texture, in … Continue reading Blossoming Paws

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