Here is fairy bread to eat.
Here in my retiring room,
Children, you may dine
On the golden smell of broom
And the shade of pine;
And when you have eaten well,
Fairy stories hear and tell.
- Fairy Bread by Robert Louis Stevenson
On this most perfect hill with these most perfect dogs are these most perfect people and this most perfect fog In this most perfect fog that is the…
words are birds that arrive with books and spring they love clouds the wind and trees some words are messengers that come from far away from…
In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where the wind-bird with its white eyes shoves and pushes among the branches. Like any…