The State Association
 had declared a convocation
At a well-located hotel
 here upon a certain date.
 ( more after the cut )

Time for another poem.   A recent selenite post reminded me of this, but, although I have read a lot of Kipling, I had not run across this until Lois Bujold mentioned it on the LMB list a while ago.  Can't say I buy into the rationale, but it is a comfortable shoe.

( The Sons Of Martha )

Some filk on a vital aspect of meaningful relationships.

( Cut to protect the guilty )

Rifle deer hunting season around here.  We walked on the roads.  To stay out of the way of the hunters.  In the past, apparently, not all have been so considerate:

Allingham's The Fairy Folk.

Another poem of timeless significance.  With apologies to I don't know whom.Now the ghostly alttachial wight ( Read more... )

A contribution to the wave of poems, from A E Housman's A Shropshire Lad:

From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.
Now---for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart---
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
Speak now, and I will answer ( Read more... )