Tuesday, December 14, 2010


I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely head
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

I like to listen to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and think of the moon’s reflection on a lake... dreaming... thinking of life and its possibilities... it is a feeling of beauty and wonderment at the majesty of it all...

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