Outside november night gathersWith a harmony of autumn leavesBlown down a wind.Quietly by the fire TaliesinHumming from within his closing hoodPlaces the seeing child on to a chair. And the glowing head is clothedIn a vestment with brightColours spreading.Together two voices riseUntil at the end of breath one soarsAnd one falls away......echoing.- Circle of Gold
-John Fairfax
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