Reading age-old wisdom
is new wine in an old bottle
poured by the hands of mercy
that opens another door,
one that was never there,
and all was a blank wall.
The pages are as virgin snow.
When there are footnotes to follow.
the metaphors are arresting
even in their antiquity.
The sun and stars are favoured
when the moon rests its case,
and the snow falls on summer lawns,
a sure sign of impending war.
The book is closed by common consent
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