Dear hearts, I really had some deep shit feel-os-o-phee to lay on you which I have found in my research into the travails of the Third Galaxy -- however, time, chance and circumstance have snared me as they do all of us at times. Tomorrow, we fly to Scotland for a 10 day holiday, so youall will just have to wait, or, even better, find something useful to do instead of looking at silly blogs on the internet.
Whatever, peace to all of you who can remember what it is like and see you the beginning of August.
As a little snack, I leave you with a tidbit of the poetry of the late Helen C. Talmadge.
Moonlight Magic
There's a bit of magic
in the moonlight
on the lake
that beckons me
and urges me to take
steps into the future
on a path of liquid gold,
altho I know full well
that it would engulf me
enfold me.
There's a bit of magic
in the breeze upon
my face
that speaks of south sea islands
or some other far off place;
and the tom-toms of teen town
would be the beating jungle drums
and their guitars the liquid music
of far off
native strums.
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