Wednesday, September 28, 2005
It's Been A Long Time Coming...

Here it is...Finally. The Ode to Heather

Borne of Eire, a lovely maiden.
A firefly, a mermaid, with mermaid hair
and azure eyes, she came to be a mum of three.
She was rescued (so I've heard) by a doctor,
a man of staunch intellect and great rapport,
from the North Sea, where the waters did
rap about her head so hard and almost tore
her iridescence fins from her lithe tail, but nay!
The doctor swam and found her on a little rock and
kissed away her crystal tears and brought her to shore.
Wrapped her, he did, in a coat of colors and made
her smile,
even though she lost so much, so much.
Her family, large, lived beneath the sea in
caverns of great coral, moss, and lichen,
and Heather of the mist did twine her hair
between her fingertips whilst in such
pleasant company...
and her heart did cheer for those
who wore such warriors' garbs, but she
did long for more, for more.
She is the mother of three water babies,
their tresses fair as hers, their hearts as pure.
She lives in a castle on the land, and smiles
with ancient memory.
Her Gaelic roots are not forgotten, but her
mind is filled with future loves.
A kinder mermaid has never been met,
and we are lucky to know her.
I have been lucky enough
to have her extend empathy, just as she has
for all who are lost at sea,
just like she, just like she.
She's bathed me in friendship and while
I barely know her:
I know this much:
A kinder soul could not be found
here or on Ireland's ground.
Thank the saints for this little fish!
She is our dearest, brightest star of the Sea,
and the doctor....Well, lucky he.
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    What I Live By:
    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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