silly ramblings of a silly wabbit
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
11:16 PM
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a clear sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
da da da....
get the rawr faye:
acting all silly willy
naughty!
very smiley biggie!
most of the time crazy..
listening to crappy music?
yup. dancing is thy poison
first class exaggerator =p
slave for my own taste of lousy fashion
hairbands, enormous earrings
very fidelity
absolute
clumsy at times
non-bogus
complex
peevish in the morns
fixation on Chad M.Murray,Wentworth Miller,Oliver Goodwill
violins and ballets
au naturalle photographs
drums and guitars were yesterdays...
of ten in one are put into past. if you don't mind
bored,reading my blog this mo;
left their footprints;
