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Replying to a comment on:
The cross roads (Villanelle) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
In a blackening haze of yellow
Tornado static, dead heat and air
I met the strangest fellow
He wore a white cap and played a red cello
"Would you care for a game of wit, or dare?"
In a blackening haze of yellow
With a raucous laugh far from mellow,
and a handshake that bade me, beware...
I met the strangest fellow
Eyes full of lightning, and voice pure bellow
At his side, a pregnant dark ruby red mare
In a blackening haze of yellow
"I don't play games" I said with legs of jello
Always the last one to leave the Fair
I met the strangest fellow
So I said "goodbye" before I said "hello"
Not caring for Old~Scratch, nor his flair
In a blackening haze of yellow
I met the strangest fellow.
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