Almost over,
The worst of all months.
Almost sober,
The thirst alone hurts.
Almost lonely,
The hurt is short lived.
Almost golden,
The dirt is long sieved.
Silt Edged
January 30, 2012
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Posted by Bog Rhymer
Chopin, At Night.
January 20, 2012I will tell you one thing twice sir!
There’s surely nothing nicer,
Than Chopin piano at night, sir.
There’s surely nothing nicer,
Than Chopin piano at night, sir.
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Posted by Bog Rhymer
