It Doesn't Have To Be Right…

… it just has to sound plausible


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Some poems you fall in love with on first reading. Here’s the opening verse of one that did it for me recently:

Her sea limps up here twice a day
And sigh by leaden sigh deposes
Crude granite heft and sponges
Sucked smooth as foreheads and noses;
No footprints dove the labouring sand,
For terrene clays bake smooth
But coarse as a gipsy’s hand.

(‘Near Paphos’ by Lawrence Durrell)

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