If only...

The Line up

While HOPE is far sighted,
JOY is ripe and firm, may you catch it when it is thrown to you.

Promise you won't lose it!

THE HOW'S

Sweet connections with clay

To placate bitter realities

Moulding tear drops

To deal

You wonder why am always happy?

EARTH

They filled my fingers like sin

It bittered my mouth

And dried it

 See their long necks

 I knew when to stop.

http://www.ancestralclayvoices.com/

And there is a saxaphone

It was to be.

"The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it."


Omar Khayam.