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Our road Swings North to South: A child’s scrawled pencil line Rutted with its iterations, Then rubbed.

les arbres sont en fleur les arbres sont des fleurs blague farineuse    

2. ANGELS, WE HAVE HEARD. I'm all in a spin. It's all happened so quickly and I can't seem to believe it. That you're not here anymore. If only I'd ... if only ... but it's no use, you see, and it's all happened so quickly. so strangely, I don't know what to think, can't even ... If I'd known. I'd have been better. Oh yes. But you knew that, didn't you ? And here I am, on a pew, mumbling faces all around me, and what did you ever get from it ? What was it ever worth ? Me on a pew, and you out...

THE IMITATION PART ONE : INTROIT 1. MORNING HAS BROKEN Everyone who met Dominic Davenport knew him as a happy man. He had a job he enjoyed, he loved his wife, and he and Jenni were expecting their first child. She was blossoming towards the due date with few, if any, problems, and their generally unruffled relationship was a great source of support and of joy. If it could be said of anyone, it was true of Dominic : his life had everything a person could want. Dominic was aware of all this, to...

After we’d talked, and kissed, in the park My evening teemed with cookery. First, the functional: a stir-fry, Green leeks sizzling, the headiness of coriander, Sloshed with a rich-brewed shoyu sauce And served up on its steamy bed of rice. Having fed my family, my thoughts ran free. My wife went out, and the children slept in bed. To the turbulent music of the dishwasher And a burble of Mozart from the front room, First came the beetroot: peeling off its jacket, Wrinkled and dusted grey with ...