new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Speak indeed, and we will listen.
Elisabeth,What more could a reticent heart ask for? And for this I thank you.vassilis
Perhaps that is the poetic justice in having the excessive gift of a hundred legs -- or for that matter a hundred eyes -- the gentle Muse can always put them all out of commission with a weapon no more menacing than a pillow. (Swell reading, Vassilis. Proof that the poet has survived!)
Thanks for your kind words, Tom, and for keeping an eye out for me!
No problem, Vassilis, I have at least ninety-nine to spare (that's what centuries of insomnia can do for an old watchdog).
Might Cerberus be your middle name?
Caught out, the old multiple-personality curs sniveled in ragged unison, "Our bytes are worse than our barks".