"He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life." ~ George Sand
This blog contains poetry written by Stephen Stacey. Feel free to explore and read all the poetry you want. I encourage you to leave comments concerning your reaction to any given poem.
This site and all my poetry is dedicated to my lovely wife Emily.
They rudely rip the hairs from off the head, Sanguineous perspiration dapples red. The cure becomes a sting and nothing else. Without this sting a tender hotness swells, Refusing touch, a raw malignancy Tenfold the product of its injury.
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