All sides of our nature press for satisfaction, and if left unsatisfied, will manifest themselves so in ideas. - F.H. Bradley


Perennial.. is the persistent day: Older by far than our imaginings. When all that can hurt, has hurt and gone away; Bequeathed its solitude of reckoning. I sense your essence in the autumn mist: A whispered voice in trees; with love instilled In gentle falling leaves. A parting kiss: To change the way I look upon the world.

© Pierre


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