Love Of Love Written By

Here Then At Long Last Is My Darkness. No Cry Of Light, No Glimmer, Not Even The Faintest Shard Of Hope To Break Free Across The Hold.

The Greatest Of Love Letters Are Always Coded For The One And Not The Many.

What Miracle Is This? This Giant Tree. It Stands Ten Thousand Feet High But Doesn't Reach The Ground. Still It Stands. Its Roots Must Hold The Sky.

At The Breakfast Table We Are Footnoting Everything That We Read. We Don't Recognise It As Such But We Encounter An Article In The Newspaper And Then Suddenly We Recall That A Friend Had A Certain Comment On That Particular Story, A Certain Bit Of News That We Saw On The Television Applies To That And We Immediately Assemble An Idea Of A Story.

Little Solace Comes To Those Who Grieve When Thoughts Keep Drifting As Walls Keep Shifting And This Great Blue World Of Ours Seems A House Of Leaves Moments Before The Wind.