A bow to The Poetry King,
who thinks he doesn't 
mean a thing 
in the grand scheme.

Wears his heart 
on stained sleeve,
makes paupers feel
like royalty.

Waxes poetic about 
life, love, and history
that would otherwise remain 
unsolved mysteries.

More than just a dream,
The Poetry King
lives eternally,
in you and me. 

https://youtu.be/0FT3SmZ_zx0

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Clubs, ace to king, prepare for a day of wicketness.

Yoga (downward dog) helps. Limbering ointment

promises more flex, less ache. If cards crease, it's

Off with their heads!

Diamonds are dispatched to capture

hedgehogs. They trek into the woods with hedgehog

horns and nets. Problem is, hedgehogs who've played 

croquet past years are not invited for rematch.

The mo...

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Good people of this Christian land,
Here before you now I stand
And come me hither I, to die,
For by the law condemned am I,
And not a word in protest muttered,
Let not a ‘treachery’ be uttered,
These lands demand my soul depart,
By pain of death and muted heart.

For at thy King’s pleasure, ‘tis true,
I soon, to take my leave of you,
I pass not blame, nor beg for life,
...

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Young boy and old duffer

Looking on;

A shout...a cheer...

Where's time gone?

Young girl and old lady

Passing by;

A smile...a wave...

The blink of an eye.

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