It is late at night here in our neck of the woods. The day has been a long and tiring one, for today we had business to take care of. The wife had to have one of those nuclear stress tests done, so that was a five hour job plus all the traveling time.
Never did get any work done on the computer changeover, all that will resume tomorrow and over the weekend. In my movement of files though I did come across a little poem I wrote a short while ago so I thought I would share that with you.
As restless as a tempestuous storm -
Filled to overflowing, with a torment
That was born of dreams unfilled.
Fighting against the ravages of time -
As now life’s juices slowly ebb,
Ever receding, to the desert floor.
And with the passing of the night -
The beast that was in him,
Died within his breast.
Eric Valentine Dec 17/06 ©