How the children must sing of this day
Supping buttermilk in an innocent way
Dalliance whittles the gentle morning away
In dreams of custard fairies, I'm none too sure
Whether the weather will change.
Monday, September 24, 2007
How do I lose myself?
I am not easily misplaced Or forgotten, Arriving as I do Before even the curtains draw And that first morning jug boils, Bleary, yes Grudgin...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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Final Thoughts From an AGM You want to mess with me? I can take you down a notch Spill the beans I’ll spill your blood Tooth for tooth, splo...
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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