Poetic-Verses
THE BOLTON CLOUD
For Mma-Ete
My mother's hair – the Bolton cloud
That sweeps across the coast of waves
And dwindles down around the ears
The cheer of storms and lightning rare
Of Bolton's turn and swift, wild wave
That tumbles on like Jordan's flow
Not of the earthly one I mean
But that in midst of Heaven's din
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THE BOLTON CLOUD
THE BOLTON CLOUD