It's The Steady, Quiet, Plodding

It Isn't The Mountain Ahead That Wears You Out; It's The Grain Of Sand In Your Shoe.

Then You've A Hunch What The Music Meant . . . Hunger And Night And The Stars.

Carry On! Carry On! Fight The Good Fight And True; Believe In You Mission, Greet Life With A Cheer.

The Wanderlust Has Got Me... By The Belly-aching Fire

I Have No Doubts That The Devil Grins, As Seas Of Ink I Spatter. Ye Gods, Forgive My “literary” Sins – The Other Kind Don’t Matter.