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  • Writer's pictureMartin Wardley


I could shuffle with great pace

Devoid of style or grace

I could shuffle with an urgency

All eyes tied to mistakes

I could shuffle in the meadows

I will shuffle on the moors

I will shuffle over dry stone walls

And out through fastened doors

I will shuffle under heavens

I will shuffle under stars

I will shuffle to the light

And I have shuffled in the dark

I could shuffle with a crowd

And I will shuffle on my own

I have shuffled with the best of ‘em

I’ve shuffled with the rest

I could shuffle rufflin feathers

I will shuffle in my words

I will sing and shuffle ceaselessly

And smile as all unfurls

And when the feet grow weary

And the body screams for rest

With half an eye still open

I will shuffle to my end

So before you come here judging

Pedestrian it maybe

But this shufflin’ keeps me moving

And reaching


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