Down the winding path I trod
Over misty morning sod,
And when I had a choice to make
Should the lesser path I take?
I chose instead the wider street,
For I knew a friend I’d meet.
- Susan L
- Portland, Oregon
- It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop. ~Vita Sackville-West
Along the winding path I slog,
ReplyDeleteI've still not started up my blog;
But when I do, I want to show
Some writing that can match Thoreau.
So when I'm ready, may I quote
That splendid rhyme that Susan wrote?