{"id":1814,"date":"2014-08-23T12:24:35","date_gmt":"2014-08-23T16:24:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=1814"},"modified":"2014-08-23T12:24:35","modified_gmt":"2014-08-23T16:24:35","slug":"five-word-musing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2014\/08\/five-word-musing\/","title":{"rendered":"Five word musing"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">In a clearing, in a forest<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">Sprites still sing and dance to an enchanted melody.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">They have done so since time immemorial.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">They were never delusional; they know the ills of the worlds they choose not to inhabit,<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">But they have created havens:<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">Grew ferns in the closing days of the Stone Age<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">Made music before the dawn of the piano<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">Lit lanterns when the world was wrapped in darkness<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">And echoed laughter down the wind when all was waste and worthless, and sorrow bred in every home.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt\"><span style=\"color: #000000;font-family: Calibri;font-size: medium\">You can go there still if you deem it necessary, but first you must deem it possible.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In a clearing, in a forest Sprites still sing and dance to an enchanted melody. They have done so since time immemorial. They were never delusional; they know the ills of the worlds they choose not to inhabit, But they have created havens: Grew ferns&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":43,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1814","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1814","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/43"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1814"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1814\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1816,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1814\/revisions\/1816"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1814"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1814"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1814"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}