Give one yielding hour,
All forgot in the moment.
Pretend to care not, if you must.
But you may be believed not.
Yet be.
In that hour, completely.
Then turn away,
Step again onto the twisting path.
Choice is loss.
Give one yielding hour,
All forgot in the moment.
Pretend to care not, if you must.
But you may be believed not.
Yet be.
In that hour, completely.
Then turn away,
Step again onto the twisting path.
Choice is loss.
Poetry
In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.
Audrey Dawn
"He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life." ...James Joyce
“The lyfe so short, the craft so long to lerne." --Chaucer
THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE