135000
|
The palm trees bent upon her passing stride
From fishnet stockings running up her hide;
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138932
|
‘Hmph! Dream indeed! “Past the wit of man to say what dream it was” - the man's a knotty-pated arse.' The old master-weaver spat into the fire, his rheumy eyes bright with contempt, then looked round furtively; Nathaniel was not yet returned,…
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11101210
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A man of action would take to his rake/
but Sloth would rather watch and wait/
for snow to erase each leaf on leaf.
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