Ole ma sun's done her slidin, down neath the grass-greened hills. I hear jolly singin, fillin up a lad's sweet voice, somewhere a-leapin over the willow trees.
Monday, February 13, 2006
About Me
- Name: the Bay
- Location: San Francisco, California, United States
poet, meanderer, artist, single, pasta lover. decidedly on the quiet side, but affable enough.
Previous Posts
- News, oh readers. 'The Parable of the Boy Who Figu...
- No smilin lad should lose his slidin ways,His slip...
- Gentle readers, I thank Argotist Online for accept...
- UndoneI am ... been ... undoneI am ... been ... fe...
- 'Undone' has been chosen for publication. Thanks t...
- The Tale of the Magicked LadHe was a shufflin fool...
- Thanks!To the Tanglewood Review for their acceptan...
- The Pastor's TaleHe sniffed; sighed. Where am I al...
- He leaned his elbow on my table, cigarette in the ...
- He ran head down, hands protecting his head as sto...
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