the autumn flower's not delicate of kindbut sturdy growth is what we most desirea stunning smile then winter's stern attirewe must take on these are the goods we findas times grow stern to our hard tasks we bindso many wishes and we hope the choirsings just as clearly as the days requirefor all our visions now have left us blindso much that's good has passed out of plain sightinto the dust where we cannot recalljust how to make what should matter sufficebut now fresh day has come out of the nightand there's no reason for a soul to stallwhile double sixes come up on the dice
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
24 November 2008
so now change
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