A sprig or mint by the wayward brook;
A nibble of birch in the wood;
A summer day and love and a book,
And I wouldn't be king if I could.
John Vance Cheney
~
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Confessions p 27
Back in the old country, the poets say
I learned manners from the ill-mannered I learned honesty from the dishonest I learned faith from the faithless
haha
What a fool I was each time I cursed the world
When the source of my frustration
Was my own inability of such alchemy
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