 Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Bologna Times. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well, the cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine, the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Corey Samuel. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine, the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by David Lawrence. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozing ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Elvira Xia. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare. The scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozing ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Glenn Simonson. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare. The scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Kim Stish. The cypress-womp around me wraps its bell with hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Leanne Howlett. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsound bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Laurie Ann Walden. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsounded bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Mark Smith. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsounded bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Down the Bayou by Mary Ashley Townsend, read for Liberbox.org by Raven Notasian. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsounded bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsounded bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. End of poem. The cypress-womp around me wraps its spell with hushing sounds and moss-hung branches there, like congregations rustling down to prayer, while solitude, like some unsounded bell, hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell, and leafy litanies on the humid air and tone themselves and on the tree-trunks bare the scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well. The cypress-knees take on them marvelous shapes of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, faes, the vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes, across the oozy ground the rabbit plays, the moccasin to jungle depths escapes, and through the gloom the wild-deer shyly gays. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.