The Memory Of Cumshewa Is

The Outstanding Event Was The Doing Which I Am Still At. Don't Pickle Me Awayas Done.

My Mountain Is Dead. As Soon As She Has Dried, I'll Bury Her Under A Decent Layer Of White Paint. But I Haven't Done With The Old Lady; Far From It!

I Sat Staring, Staring, Staring - Half Lost, Learning A New Language Or Rather The Same Language In A Different Dialect.

I Wonder Why We Are Always Sort Of Ashamed Of Our Best Parts And Try To Hide Them. We Don't Mind Ridicule Of Our 'sillinesses' But Of Our 'sobers'.

Let Me Not Fuss And Fret At My Incompetence But Be Still And Know That Thou Art God.