A description of what started this particular blog can be found in its first entry --Feb. 9, 2009. It's about healing.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Quantum Wave Adjustment Kit
Being you is Barefoot on broad Piers at night rejoicing Where beach fires Compose wishes. Being me is Fifty-some-odd Years ago noticing How much pliers Look like fishes.
Willie, Maybe age, maybe. Poem is composed of two sentences, 19 syllables each, in which piers rhymes with years and pliers with fires. However, my right and left brains always unite in alarm when my pier is on fire. Now where are those damn pliers? Geo.
'Piers'...'pliers'? Interesting. Left brain reaches right brain. Do we become more of the former as we age? Just wondering....
ReplyDeleteWillie,
ReplyDeleteMaybe age, maybe. Poem is composed of two sentences, 19 syllables each, in which piers rhymes with years and pliers with fires. However, my right and left brains always unite in alarm when my pier is on fire. Now where are those damn pliers?
Geo.