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Writers Ground

Come sit

upon this tapestry.

Let fingertips feel each blade of grass.

Look up,

see clouds meander by.

Lay back,

melt into all ever felt-- 

and be

with pen tendrilled words,


all time, touch, sound and taste.

This here my friend,

is sacred space.

The oyster your grit refines.

This here,


writers' ground

-Rebecca Stirling


Writing and communicating about travel, adventure, sailing, preserving cultures, women, love.

Promoting writers and writing.

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