a morning poem

I woke early one morning
the earth lay cool and still
when suddenly a tiny bird
Perched upon my window sill.

He sang a song so lovely
so carefree and so gay,
that slowly all my troubles,
began to slip away.

He sang of far off places
of laughter and of fun,
it seemed his very trilling,
brought up the morning sun.

I stirred beneath the covers
crept slowly out of bed
then gently shut the window
and crushed his fucking head.
I'm not a morning person.

[anon 2002]

(no subject)

just popped out to look at The Pond, and it seems we did something right. All the fish are surviving - thriving, even. And there are four water beetles in there, and two dragonflies - one bright red, and one bright blue - hovering round the plants. All very ecologically sound :)

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE .............!!!!!!!!

1Mb cable modem configured and working :)