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Poems for devolution (Free verse) by richa

I We turn the clocks forward for more light, for the scottish farmers not doubt. In the highlands, red jowls chewing on gristle. Their strange climate they can keep. II A strange climate you have; rain on a handful of heads in spartan highlands, we all get the forecast. In those couple of minutes we could have had Rhyl's.

durr_T_hip_E 22-Mar-05/3:33 PM
You got the lucky 7 from me for creativity in word choice; I noticed when reading the comments that you wished to convey the idea of the narrator being involved in petty conflict - well done... your message is nearly crystal clear, and would be if it was known (from the poem) that you are British, otherwise it just seems like the narrator is some average joe who has beef with scotland for, of all reasons, climate and topography.

good work

peace,

sean




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