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In my Craft or Sullen Art
... from the raging moon I write
on these spindrift pages ...
Dylan Thomas
All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street....
Dylan Thomas
... With the man in the wind and the west moon ...
Dylan Thomas
... Her garden blooms with iris, and it seems,
The moons are white flames, like the moons in dreams...
Dylan Thomas
... You king singsong owls, who moonbeam
The flickering runs ...
Dylan Thomas
... Nights in the sockets rounds,
Like some pitch moon the limit of the globes ...
Dylan Thomas
... The lunar silences, the silent tide
Lapping the still canals ...
Dylan Thomas
... from the middle moonlit stages ...
Dylan Thomas