The Sweets Of Pillage Can

Where Thou Art, That Is Home.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes. The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs.

An Altered Look About The Hills; A Tyrian Light The Village Fills; A Wider Sunrise In The Dawn; A Deeper Twilight On The Lawn; A Print Of A Vermilion Foot; A Purple Finger On The Slope; A Flippant Fly Upon The Pane; A Spider At His Trade Again; An Added Strut In Chanticleer; A Flower Expected Everywhere.

Wonder Is Not Precisely Knowing.

I Hope You Love Birds Too. It Is Economical. It Saves Going To Heaven.