A warm glow comes through the window,
Soft music oozes from the lap top,
Weather can not decide how to behave.
A brown, grounded aroma fills my nostrils,
Small sips of swirly smoke slide down my tongue.
I think of you,
I write of you.
The little pilot is rekindled.
I miss you,
I am glad you are back.
According to the Renaissance world picture, life was like a wheel of fortune, where you are sometimes up and sometimes down. You just have to remember that when you are up you will eventually come down (to take measures accordinlgy, not to be pessimistic) and when you are down you will not stay there forever, you WILL get on top. In this site entries of the sort will be posted.
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